


Free Fall

by Syls Darkplace (sylsdarkplace)



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-13
Updated: 2014-02-13
Packaged: 2018-01-12 05:17:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 48,187
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1182371
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sylsdarkplace/pseuds/Syls%20Darkplace
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Pairing: Jensen/JDM, Jensen/OMCs, Jensen/Jared<br/>Summary: Jensen is just an out of luck teen hooker until he meets a kindly john who takes him in, but Jeff wants more than a boyfriend. He wants his perfect fantasy.<br/>Warnings: Feminization, underage (Jensen is 17), nipple play, rimming, milking, body modification, light bondage, kidnapping, non-con, suicidal ideation.<br/></p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

A sleek black car glides to a stop at the curb. It gleams under the street lights. Jensen pushes himself away from the brick wall of the building and approaches it as the darkened side window slides down. He puts a hand on the roof and leans in.

“Nice car.”

“Are you buying or selling?” the driver asks.

Jensen purses his lips before answering. He knows all too well how his mouth looks. “Fifty for oral, seventy-five for anal, with a condom.”

The man gives a low whistle. “Kind of pricey for this neighborhood.”

“I’m not from this neighborhood.”

“Me neither.” The guy nods. “Get in.”

###

Jensen is ass up and face down on the mattress. Not a stained motel mattress, but the guy’s bed. The man with the shiny black car, Jeff, has been nice. Offered him a beer.

“How old are you?”  he’d asked.

“Eighteen.”

“Right,” Jeff said with a chuckle. “So let’s take this into the bedroom, Jenny.”

Jensen tenses. He hates being called Jenny. The taunt has followed him his entire life, and by freshman year, he would fight over it. But he lets it go. This is a customer. Business. It’s food in his stomach.

Now there’s a big, hot hand on the back of his neck holding him down, as if he’s going anywhere, as the guy fucks roughly into him, mumbling a string of curses that Jensen only half hears. His own cock swings limp between his legs. He’s just waiting for it to be over, so he can get back to his corner.

The guy’s thrusts become jerky. He loses his rhythm and shoves hard into Jensen with a grunt. Jeff pulls Jensen back onto his cock, pressing in as far as he can get, and moans. After a few moments, he releases the hand on Jensen’s neck. The air feels cool on his skin, and he wonders if he’ll have bruises.

Jensen is stiff as he sits up. Jeff climbs from the bed and tosses the condom in the trash.

“Hate those things,” he mumbles. “Wish I could fill that tight pussy up with come.”

###

Jensen rolls over and stretches on Jeff’s smooth sheets.

“Why don’t you move in with me, Jenny?”

Jeff has become a regular. Jensen wishes he’d told him the first night not to call him Jenny, because it seems too late now. He still doesn’t like it, but Jeff doesn’t say it like the bullies in school did. It’s affectionate … just not right.

###

Jeff likes for Jensen to run on the treadmill every day. Do sit ups and push-ups, but no weights. He doesn’t want him to bulk up with muscle.

“You’re beautiful slim as you are,” he says.

###

Jensen is on his back, hands fisted in the sheets. Jeff is on top of him, playing with his nipples, pulling and twisting and sucking and nipping. He can do this for hours. Jensen has noticed that his nipples have become more prominent with all the play. Jeff likes that – likes for him to wear thin white t-shirts and wife beaters, so he can see them through the fabric.

“God, I love your tits,” he whispers. Jensen’s hard on flags slightly at the term, but he lets it go. This feels too good, he needs the attention and affection too much to let Jeff’s little kinks freak him out.

###

Jensen is on his back with Jeff’s cock buried in his ass, pounding his prostate. His own cock is so hard, red, drooling, practically in front of his face. His balls are full and tight. He’s chasing his orgasm. It’s right there, right there. Jeff wraps a hand around Jensen’s cock and strokes it, smearing precome up and down its length. Jensen cries out as the tension snaps and jizz paints his chest and face.

“Such a fucking big clit,” Jeff says, as he continues stroking. Jensen is shaking with pleasure. His muscles clamp down on Jeff’s cock and in moments his brown eyes squeeze shut and his hips stutter. Jensen feels his channel slicked even more as his lover spills into him.

Jeff pulls out and lies beside him. He kisses Jensen’s cheek and rubs a thumb over a nipple. Jensen shudders at the sensation. Jeff still can’t keep his hands off them. As if to confirm that, he rolls it between his thumb and finger. He nuzzles against Jensen’s neck.

“There’s nothing better than filling your tight little pussy full of come,” he whispers.

Jensen is fucked out high, and it doesn’t register until later what Jeff said.

###

Sometimes Jeff ties his hands to the headboard. Jensen isn’t sure why. It’s not like he doesn’t do whatever Jeff wants anyway, but Jeff says he looks pretty that way when he comes. Writhing around and pulling at the ropes.

Jensen’s eyes widen as Jeff puts a glass cup over his right nipple. It looks like a test tube but with a piece of rubber tubing attaching it to a little hand pump. Jeff squeezes the pump and Jensen’s nipple is sucked into the cup. He gasps. Jensen can’t help but whine when Jeff squeezes it again. He flicks the cup with his fingernail, and Jensen whimpers.

Jeff detaches the hose from the cup, which stays latched onto Jensen’s nipple like an eel. He moves to the other nipple and does the same. Despite the pain and embarrassment and slight horror of seeing his flesh sucked into the tubes that way, Jensen’s cock is hard.

“So good, baby girl,” Jeff murmurs. “Want me to suck your clit?”

Jensen almost sobs, wiggles his hips and nods.

###

Jensen tells himself he’s lucky. He’d been on the streets for almost a year. He’d gotten the clap a couple of times, but he didn’t have HIV. Jeff might have some kinks that Jensen wasn’t really into, but he was good to him.

He doesn’t know what Jeff does for a living. He has a home office where he works in two and three hours increments throughout the day. Jensen is rarely alone in the apartment. He watches TV or reads or plays video games while Jeff works.

Their lives have a routine. They shower together in the morning. It’s Jensen’s favorite time. They have the most normal, white bread sex in the shower – hands and mouths and wet skin.

Jeff is quieter in the morning. Talks less of Jensen’s tits and clit and pussy. He still calls him Jenny, but Jensen doesn’t notice that anymore.

Next comes Jensen’s least favorite part of the day. His enema or douche as Jeff says. It doesn’t matter how many times they do this, he still feels humiliated as the warm water fills his gut. Jeff’s hand gently rubbing his belly and his tender words of praise only seem to make it worse.

“You’re so good for me, Jenny. I know you don’t like this,” he says, “but we have to get you all clean inside for the next step.”

The next step, Jensen kneels at the foot of the bed with his knees drawn under him and his cheek on the comforter. He looks out the window, over the skyline of the city. Jeff pulls up a chair behind him and drags the toy box from beneath the bed. Jensen has never seen inside it. Doesn’t want to.

Jeff sets his laptop on the bed beside Jensen, but the opposite side that Jensen is facing. Jensen knows from glimpses over the past few months that there’s a video camera on a tripod with cables running to the laptop. Jeff records this every day.

Jeff slides a plastic backed puppy pad under Jensen to prevent the comforter from getting stained. Then, he lubes his fingers and pushes two into Jensen’s ass. Jensen doesn’t flinch at the abrupt intrusion. Not anymore. And he doesn’t get an erection.

He did at first. How could he not with Jeff’s fingers fucking into him and stimulating his prostate? But the very first time, Jeff had withdrawn his fingers with a sigh.

“You have to learn to control yourself,” he’d said. Jensen had heard him dig around in the toybox, and a moment later, a fingernail flicked hard against his sac. He yelped and his hard on wilted.

“That’s better,” Jeff said. He wrapped something cold and hard around Jensen’s cock – a cage. “This will help you learn not to get hard when you shouldn’t.”

It only took a few weeks before Jensen learned to not get an erection. Now when Jeff’s fingers rub over his prostate, his cock doesn’t so much as twitch. His balls are full and tight. He doesn’t have to look, he did once, and saw the fluid oozing from his limp cock onto the pad under him. The feeling is both uncomfortable and pleasurable. With every press of Jeff’s fingers more leaks from his cock.

This is humiliating too. Coming without so much as a hard on. He’s not aroused. It isn’t even sexual really. He wonders if Jeff gets a hard on during these sessions.

With that done, Jeff withdraws his fingers, but runs them around the edge of Jensen’s hole.

Such a pretty pussy, he says reverently.

He rummages around in the toy box again, and Jensen feels the pressure of a hard, cold plug. Jeff pushes it inward. He’s relentless as it slowly opens Jensen wider and wider. The plugs have gotten bigger with each passing week. He knows there will be pain, but he’s learned to relax despite it. Being relaxed minimizes the pain. He knows that. And Jeff never really hurts him. He never bleeds. He just stretches more as time goes on. He never sees the plugs. He doesn’t want to. Doesn’t want to know how much he can take.

Finally, just when he thinks the rim is going to tear, when he’s about to protest, it slides all the way in. Jeff pats his ass and stands.

Relax, he says. I’ll be back in a while.

This is an endurance game. A marathon. Jensen hates this part because he can’t do anything. He tries to meditate. To just clear his mind of everything. Sometimes he can, and the time goes quickly. When he can’t, it’s torture. All he can think of is what brought him here. Running away. His time on the streets. He just can’t see where he could have done things differently. How his life might have gone another way. Still, Jeff isn’t so bad. He takes care of him. He’s kind.

When Jeff comes back to remove the plug, well, that can be even worse. His muscles have locked around the plug, and Jeff has to twist and pull to dislodge it. Then, he fingers Jensen’s empty hole. Pushes in three, four fingers in a cone, his thumb, knuckles and his hand slides in. Jeff groans.

Jensen gags. Bile rises in his throat.

“We’ve had a breakthrough, Jenny,” he says. He’s pleased. Jensen can hear it in his voice. “Your hungry cunt swallowed my hand. My God, I wish you could see it.”

His hand slides back and forth inside Jensen. His knuckles rub over Jensen’s prostate. Nausea rolls through his gut again at the pleasurable sensation. _That’s his fist in my ass,_ Jensen thinks.

The hand pushes farther into him, and Jensen flails. His fists pound on the mattress, but he’s not going anywhere. He has no room to struggle, and a strangled noise erupts from his throat.

Jeff lays his other hand on his lower back as his right hand begins to retreat. “Shh, sweetheart, it’s all right,” Jeff says soothingly. “You did so well. I’m so proud of you.”

He moves Jensen up the bed and arranges him on his back before tying his hands to the headboard. He pushes a small dildo into Jensen’s gaping ass.

Now, when you can tighten your muscles enough to push that out, I’ll let you up.

Jeff has said time and again, that although Jensen needs to stretch, he doesn’t want him to lose muscle tone. This is his solution. Jensen has to now lie there and try to work his anal muscles.

“”No one likes a stretched out pussy, do they? Jeff says as he packs up his gear.

He turns out the light and leaves Jensen alone. “I’ll check back later or give me a holler when you’re done with your exercises.”

###

They have lunch together every day. Just salad or sandwiches. Then Jeff works while Jensen entertains himself. Late in the afternoon, Jeff uses the nipple pump again. It’s a daily thing, and Jensen’s nipples have gotten longer, thicker, and so sensitive. The brush of fabric makes them erect and they show through almost any kind of shirt he wears. Jeff still prefers the thin white t-shirts.

The day before Jeff had run out to the store. When he’d returned, Jensen met him in the hallway. Jeff had taken one look at him, dropped the bags of groceries, and latched his mouth onto Jensen’s right nipple right through the fabric, sucking and worrying it with his teeth. He moved to the other. Looking down, Jensen was shocked to see the wet fabric clinging to the huge nub of his nipple. Jeff sucked and teased the other. His fingers went to the first and pinched it hard enough to make Jensen cry out.

Jeff had him pressed against the wall, and Jensen’s hard on tented his sweat pants. Jeff reached down and struggled with the drawstring.

“Damn it,” he growled.

Jensen batted his hands away and got the knot out. Jeff jerked the pants down Jensen’s thighs.

“Look at you,” he said. “Clit all big and hard for me.” He stroked Jensen’s cock. “You want me to fuck you, Jenny?”

“Yes.”

“Yes, what?”

“Fuck me.”

“Fuck what, baby?”

“Fuck … ugh, fuck my cunt.”

Jeff laughed low and deep. “Yeah, I will,”” he said. “Gonna fuck your pussy so good, fill you so full of come you’ll taste it.”

Jensen had learned at the beginning to keep his ass lubed, and it was a good thing because Jeff spun him around and shoved him face first against the wall. Jensen was panting and pushing his ass back against Jeff just as the man got his fly open and his cock out. He didn’t hesitate a moment before thrusting deep into Jensen’s hole.

With one hand on Jensen’s hip and the other twisting and tugging on a nipple, Jeff rammed rough and fast. His cock pounded Jensen’s prostate.

“That your g-spot, baby girl? Huh? You gonna come on daddy’s cock?”

The words were like static in Jensen’s head, sick and shameful, and he shuddered as his come painted the wall before him. Jeff’s hand slid over Jensen’s flat belly as he pressed deeper into him and filled him with his seed.

“Ah, wanna knock you up. See your belly swell, get round from me. Fuck you with our baby in there,” Jeff mumbles. Both of his hands are covering Jensen’s abdomen. His cock is still hard inside his channel. “You’d like that too. Wouldn’t you, Jenny?” A hand slides up, tugs and twists a nipple. “Suckle our babies on your pretty tits.” Jeff ruts against Jensen’s ass. Come slides out around the still thick, hard shaft, and runs down Jensen’s thigh. “You’re the perfect girl for me, baby.”

Jensen’s mind grinds to halt. He can’t. He just can’t.

###

“I don’t have a pussy,” Jensen says out of the blue.

Jeff cocks an eyebrow at him and smirks. “No?”

“No,” Jensen says. “It’s my ass.”

Jeff just nods and grabs his arm. His fingers curl around Jensen’s arm just above the elbow and dig in. He drags Jensen toward the bedroom.

“I thought we were on the same page, baby,” Jeff says. He shoves Jensen into the room. “Take your clothes off,” he orders.

Jensen wants to say, _No._ He doesn’t want to obey, but he does. He always does. Jeff gets out his laptop and video camera, and Jensen feels suddenly apprehensive, chilled.

Get on the bed, Jeff says. His voice has a hard edge to it that brooks no disagreement. Jensen climbs onto the end of the bed with his ass up, cheek against the comforter. Jeff sets the laptop so that Jensen can see the monitor. He opens a video file.

“Look.”

The crack of a guy’s ass, smooth shaved balls, a tight petal pink pucker of asshole.

“Your ‘ass’ the first day of training,” Jeff said.

 _Training,_ Jensen thinks. Jeff had never called it that before. The chill reaches deeper inside him.

Jeff reaches over and clicks on the video feed. The image moves, out of focus as Jeff steadies the camera. It sweeps across the globes of Jensen’s ass before focusing on the crease, the vertical slit surrounded by thick, ruffled edges of a deep rosy pink. A pussy. He squeezes his eyes shut.

While Jeff has made Jensen exercise the muscles to keep them strong and able to retract, he’s stretched the skin until it’s lost its elasticity, no longer able to remain smooth and tight. Jensen feels his gorge rise, and almost panics, afraid he’ll drown in his vomit if he throws up in that position.

“Beautiful,” Jeff says and touches the swollen flesh.

Jensen’s eyes go to the monitor again. He sees Jeff’s thumb trace the along the edges of his slit. The video camera must be on the tripod now because it doesn’t move as Jeff leans forward and licks at his … his rim. Jensen’s muscles twitch as the tip of Jeff’s tongue laps at the lips of his … no, no, his ass. The slick, probing muscle plunges into him, and Jensen’s cock goes rock hard. Jeff is making obscene slurping sounds as he licks and sucks at Jensen cunt.

Jensen moans and squirms on the end of Jeff’s tongue, but he needs Jeff’s cock in him. He needs to be filled and consumed. He needs to forget.

“Fuck me, fuck me,” he begs. “Fuck my pussy.”

It only takes Jeff a moment to rise to his feet, get his cock out and shove into Jensen.

“Look, Jenny, look at how your pussy eats my cock.”

There on the monitor, Jeff’s dick is spearing into his cunt. Driving deep inside, obliterating any shame or regret or consciousness.

“Made this pussy for me,” Jeff groans. “It’s gonna swallow my come just like your pretty mouth. Beautiful baby slut.”

###

“What’s this?” Jensen asks.

“A kilt,” Jeff says. “I’m tired of grappling with zippers and drawstrings. I shouldn’t have to fight to get to your pussy, baby.”  He kisses Jensen on the forehead.

“You don’t expect me to wear this in public,” Jensen said.

“No, not unless you want to,” Jeff said with a grin. “Just around the house. Or go naked. That would work too.”

###

Jeff’s eyes are squeezed shut. He rocks back and forth as his orgasm grips him. When his face smooths out, his eyes open, and smiles at Jensen who is bent practically in half.

“Mm, how many loads is that today?” Jeff asks. “Four? Five?”

“Five.”

“Five.” Jeff smiles fondly. His hand rubs over Jensen’s belly. He likes to keep Jensen full of come. When he pulls his cock out he’ll push a plug in. Sometimes Jensen feels like occupied territory. Never completely his own person. Jeff is always there inside him. Even that isn’t enough for the man.

“Imagine a little egg in there being battered by all those sperm. Hmm?” Jeff says. His fingers move in a circular motion just below Jensen’s  navel. “Just one breaks in, and then …” His hips roll, he ruts shallowly, still hard cock moving in Jensen’s cunt.

The hand continues massaging Jensen’s flat stomach. “Your flat, little belly would grow big and round, the skin stretched tight around my child inside you. I wonder how tight your pussy would be then.” His hips begin to move with more purpose. He’s fucking Jensen again. His cock never got soft after the last orgasm. Jensen wonders how the guy can have that kind of staying power.

“Imagine my child suckling on your pretty tits,” Jeff said. His hands go to Jensen’s nipples. Of course, they do. He rhythmically pulls on them as though imitating a nursing infant. Jeff leans over him and says in a conspiratorial whisper, “I’d suck on one while it nursed on the other. Then, I’d fuck you with it while suckled your tit.”

Jeff throws his head back and cries out, slams his cock hard into Jensen who wonders if he can get bruises on his cunt. Jeff chuckles. “Wow,” he pants and flicks his thumbs over Jensen’s over-sensitized nipples.

“I know a doctor who can give you real tits,” he says.

Jensen feels a spike of panic. “You mean fake ones,” he replies.

Jeff shrugs. “Think of how pretty they’d be.” His hands are warm on Jensen’s chest, but Jensen pushes them away.

“Why don’t you just get a girl,” he says. His throat is tight and his eyes sting.

“Because I like you, and I love your big, hard clit,” Jeff answers.

Jensen goes limp with relief. Jeff lets his dick slide from Jensen’s pussy and pushes a plug into him.

###

Jensen’s hands are flat on each side of the full-length mirror as Jeff grips his hips and thrusts into him. Jensen’s eyes fall shut at the feel of the thick length filling him. There is still nothing better than this, Jeff moving inside him, spilling his seed deep in Jensen’s belly.

“Open your eyes,” Jeff says.

He does. Jeff’s hips are making slow rolling motions. His cock sliding gently inside Jensen. He watches Jeff’s hands trail from his hips, over his ribs until they cup his breasts, lift them as though testing their weight.

“So gorgeous,” Jeff murmurs. He squeezes the globes and teases the hard prominent nipples. Jensen shivers. “Perfect”.

He wraps his arms around Jensen and begins to fuck him hard and fast. Jensen watches the mounds of flesh and silicone bounce with each thrust. He lets his head fall back against Jeff’s shoulder and closes his eyes.

He was a boy once. A boy who played little league and went to scout camp. He had a dog named Pogo, a brother and a sister. He’d never looked at girls the way his older brother did. He liked boys. Wanted to kiss boys. He had. And this … it had led to this. With this man.

He isn’t a boy anymore. He doesn’t know what he is … other than this man’s. Jeff’s pretty slut, his baby girl, his Jenny.


	2. Chapter 2

Jenny’s never been in a bar or club. He’s 19 after all, and despite his height, easily looks a couple years younger. He thinks that any club that would allow him in has to be suspect. But the guy at the door just gives Jeff a dirty grin as he tucks the fifty dollar bill in the pocket of his jeans.

Jeff gives a small tug on the leash in his hand, and Jenny follows. The collar is new. Jeff put it on him days after the breast implants. It’s black leather with a tag that reads ‘Jenny’ on one side and ‘Baby Girl’ on the other. It makes Jenny feel small and hollow inside.

He’s wearing black jeans and boots and a thin wife beater that shows off his breasts with their prominent nipples pierced with silver rings. His clit is now adorned with a ring through the slit as well.

The club is dark and loud. There’s a strange atmosphere of menace, of too much testosterone and alcohol, like a powder keg awaiting a spark. Most of the men are Jeff’s age or older. Many sport shaved heads, beards, and a lot of bare skin. Few wear shirts, exposing their hairy chests. Some wear nothing but boots, jock straps and leather harnesses. Many turn from the bar and the pool tables and openly stare at him like predators.

Jenny is grateful for the leash that connects him to Jeff.

###

Jenny is in the women’s room washing his hands. He’s not sure why there’s a women’s room since almost no women go to the club. Probably health department regulations or something.

“You know this restroom is for women, don’t you?” the person next to him says.

He looks up in the mirror and meets an annoyed gaze. She’s shorter than him with a dark crewcut and thick eyebrows. Her arms are muscular where they stretch the t-shirt.

Jenny looks away and bites his lip. “Sorry,” he says, “I don’t feel very safe in the men’s room.”

Her eyes soften. “Forget about it, honey,” she says. “Use the ladies room whenever you want.”

Jenny smiles a little. “Thanks,” he says quietly.

“I’m Nick,” she says as she holds out a hand.

“Jenny,” he says and shakes her hand.

“Anyone gives you any trouble, you let me know, Jenny,” Nick says. “I’ll kick the snot out of them. Doesn’t look like your boyfriend’s taking care of you.”

“It’s not that. He just …”

“Don’t,” Nick cut him off. Her eyes are hard. “I’ve heard enough bullshit excuses from women. Your age – you shouldn’t even be here.” She shook her head.

###

They’ve become regulars. Jeff knows a lot of the guys by name now, so does Jenny – not that they talk to him. No one does. Nick gives him a nod when their paths cross.

Jeff is sitting on a stool with his back to the bar. He pulls Jenny onto his lap, arm around his waist. Jenny can feel his man’s hard-on pressed against his ass. Jeff keeps talking to his buddies – Mark and Jake and Ellis – as he pulls Jenny’s shirt up, exposing his breasts. Jenny flushes to the tips of his ears; then Jeff starts playing with his nipples – rolling and squeezing and tugging at them. The other men openly watch. Jenny bites his lip and looks away.

“’scuse us,” Jeff says and pushes Jenny to his feet. He directs Jenny through the crowd toward the back of the room. “You horny, baby slut?” he whispers in Jenny’s ear.

No, Jenny wants to say, but he knows it wouldn’t matter. Jeff’s horny, and he maneuvers Jenny into a dark corner and pushes him to his knees. Jeff steps in close, and lowers his fly. His cock is rock hard as he shoves it into Jenny’s mouth, gripping his hair, and fucking into his throat.

The floor is sticky, and Jeff is giving Jenny no chance to adjust or breathe. Tears are streaming down his cheeks. “I used to get paid for this,” he thinks. “I used to have a choice.”

###

Jenny is wearing Doc Martin’s, a black jockstrap and slave harness. His arms are bound before him. It isn’t an unusual outfit for the club – but his breasts are a novelty item that most of men treat as some kind of joke or worse. These men aren’t drag queens or particularly PC.

He hears the taunts of ‘tranny’ and ‘freak,’ and he knows Jeff hears them too. He must, but he never acknowledges them. Jenny thinks he’s seen Jeff smirk in response, but he can’t believe that’s true. Jeff thinks he’s pretty. He turns Jeff on.

“Is that really how you see yourself?” asks a man to his right.

Jenny is startled to be addressed. Jeff is standing a little to the left and in front of him. He’s talking to his friends and doesn’t notice that someone is talking to Jenny. The man is typically bald and bearded. He’s wearing just engineer boots, black leather pants, wrist cuffs. He’s holding two bottles of Bud Light and offers one to Jenny.

“I ...”Jenny says. He doesn’t know if he should accept. He glances at the back of Jeff’s head, then lifts his bound hands and takes the beer. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” the guy says. “I’m Ramon. What’s your name?”

“Jenny.”

“No, your real name.”

He hesitates before answering. “Jensen.”

“Seriously, Jensen, is this look your idea or his?”

Jenny takes a drink of beer and doesn’t answer.

“That’s what I thought,” Ramon says. He pitches his voice low and keeps glancing at Jeff. “Listen, I can tell you’re too young for that beer and way too young to be doing this kind of stuff to yourself, especially just to please someone else.”

Jenny wants to get away from this man. He wants to run out of the club. He feels panic gripping him.

“Hey,” Ramon says. A warm, firm hand rests on the small of his back. “If you ever need help, you come to me. I’m here most every night. I know a place that helps kids like you. Okay?”

Jenny nods stiffly.

“Good.” Ramon pats his shoulder. “Enjoy your beer, Jensen.”

###

Jenny’s outfit represents a new mile marker in the evolution of his club costumes. Jeff had strapped him into a harness that crossed between his bared breasts, and six lengths of chain drape over his ribs. A central strap connects the harness to his collar. He gave Jenny a flared black leather miniskirt to put on, and helped him into black thigh-high boots that made him walk on his toes. He’d placed cuffs on his wrists that had tension clips and fastened them behind his back.

Chains from the looped from Jenny’s collar to each nipple ring as well. Jeff stood back to admire his work.

“Lovely,” he said. “Just one more thing.”

Jenny wasn’t sure what it was at first, but it looked like a leather face mask with wide straps. Realization dawned on him, and he backed away in a panic. Colliding with the wall, he stumbled and almost went to his knees.

Jeff frowned and then smirked. “Where do you think you’re going to go?”

“Please, don’t,” Jenny said. “I’ll suffocate.” He hated anything over his nose or mouth and Jeff knew it.

“Don’t be melodramatic,” Jeff said, and held the mask by a metal ring at the top, let the fingers of the other hand poke out through the eye and nose and mouth holes. “See? You can see and breathe just fine.”

Jensen was almost hyperventilating, but he held still and let Jeff place the leather over his head. His vision was somewhat obstructed by the wide, curved strap that ran between his eyes, but he could see. He could breathe. He blew air out between his lips as Jeff adjusted the straps to make the leather snug around his jaw.

“I guess we don’t need this.” He held what looked like a small butt plug attached to a leather strap – but it wasn’t. It was a gag. “Do we?”

Jensen shook his head, panic rising again.

“Calm down,” Jeff said and turned Jensen toward the full-length mirror. “Stunning, no?”

Jensen saw leather, wide green eyes, bee-stung lips, but it wasn’t him. He didn’t know this … person with full upturned tits pierced with silver rings, unnaturally long legs in those tall boots, and the skirt … who knew what was under that skirt. This person was a stranger, anonymous, without identity. A cold, hard knot deep inside him shrank, constricted to nothing, a void, a black hole.

Jeff kissed the back of his neck and his hand slid under the skirt, his fingers into the crease of Jenny’s ass, he stroked the ruffled lips of his pussy. Jenny’s eyelids fluttered.

“You were a naughty, slut,” Jeff whispered. “Trying to get away from me.”

Jenny shivers knowing that Jeff would file that little violation away for later. He never forgot.

Now entering the club, Jenny looks around for Nick or Ramon. Even though neither had spoken to him since those initial conversations, he feels better when they are around. He doesn’t see either one, but the club is crowded.

Jeff is drinking whiskey, one after another in quick succession. Jenny knows that won’t stop him from getting fucked at some point in the evening. Jeff seems to be immune to whiskey dick. If anything, it only takes him longer to get off. He’s sitting on a barstool and pulls Jenny back onto his knee – drink in one hand, one of Jenny’s tits in the other. Ellis and Jake, are chatting with him. Ellis is tall and the color of ebony. While he doesn’t miss a word of the conversation, he can’t keep his eyes off Jeff’s fingers and they twist and tug on Jenny’s nipple.

“She ever get a hard on?” he finally asks.

Jeff laughs. “No, not unless I tell her to. She knows better, don’t you, Jenny?”

“So she can?” Jake says.

“Oh hell, yes,” Jeff says. His hand drops to Jenny’s lap and pulls his skirt up. Jenny feels his face heat up. Jeff has never shown off his junk before. “She’s got a nice big clit, but she knows not to let it get hard without permission.” Jenny can hear the smile in his voice, and he feels just a little proud of Jeff bragging on him.

“Stand up a minute, baby,” Jeff says. He rises from his stool, turns Jenny around, and unclips the wrist cuffs. “Bend over and put your hands on the stool.”

Jenny does it because he’s a good girl and he’s in disbelief. He feels Jeff flip the skirt up and pull his ass cheeks apart.

“Is that the prettiest cunt you’ve ever seen?” Jeff brags.

Jenny hears one of the men give a low whistle.

“Da-hum,” Ellis says. “That is something else.”

“I’ll say,” Jake echoes.

“Doesn’t look too tight though”, Ellis said.

“Believe me,” Jeff says. “”Like a vise.

“You are a lucky man,” Ellis said. “What I wouldn’t give for a piece of ass like that.”

There a pause for just a beat before Jeff says, “Got a condom?”

“Yes, sir, I do,” Ellis replies, and Jenny feels the world fall away beneath his feet. He freezes. This isn’t happening. Jeff didn’t just give someone permission to fuck him. He wouldn’t do that. But a huge, hot hand grasps his hip like a brand and then the head of a thick cock is pressing into him, stretching the ring of muscle more than Jeff’s cock could. He gasps. He’d prepped himself for Jeff, so it doesn’t really hurt, but it’s wrong. He’s not a whore.

Ellis grasps his other hip and pulls Jenny back onto his cock. He groans. “Fuck, it is tight. Damn, baby, gonna give it too you good.” His cock slides in and out with long, slow drags at first, but soon he’s picking up speed, thrusting deep and hard. If his hips weren’t being held in a bruising grip, Jenny wouldn’t be able to stay on his feet in those ridiculous boots.

Jeff sits down on the bar stool beside the one Jenny is bent over and hooks a finger under the edge of the mask, forcing Jenny to look up. “You like it, don’t you?” he asks.

 _He has to be able to see the tears in my eyes,_ Jensen thinks.

Jeff leans close and whispers in his ear, “You like being used. That’s why you’ve stayed. Always been a slut.”

“No.” Jensen’s lips form the word but no sound comes out. His balls are heavy and tight even if his cock hangs flaccid. Ellis’s cock is pounding his prostate, and within moments, pleasure and shame crash through him. He gasps as come flows from his limp cock. He sees Jeff grin. A moment later, Ellis slams hard into him and goes still. He rocks against Jenny’s buttocks and then lets his cock slide free.

“How about you, Jake?” Jeff says. “You want a go?”

“Fuck, yeah,” Jake responds.

Jensen’s pussy feels empty and open. Somehow getting fucked by Jake sounds better than standing there exposed.

“Hey!” the bartender yells. “Take in the back. We got people wanna drink up here.”

Jeff laughs and pulls Jenny upright. He and Jake each grab an arm and drag him toward the back of the club.

He’s placed on his back on a bench. Ellis grabs his hands and Jeff and Jake each take an ankle. His wrists cuffs are hooked to something above his head, and Jeff and Jake cuff his ankles to a spreader bar hanging from above. Jeff leans back against the wall next to Ellis, and Jenny can see Jake in the V of his legs. He grins crookedly and undoes his fly. Jenny’s ass is just hanging over the edge of the table. Jake pulls out his dick and strokes it. There are other patrons now crowding around the bench for the show or … _No, surely not waiting for a turn_ _, Jenny thinks. No._

Jake’s dick isn’t fat, but it’s long. He rolls on a condom and rubs the head along Jenny’s pussy lips. He looks up. “Used to be a boy, huh?” he says. Jenny flushes in shame, and Jake grins. He thrusts in hard and fast. He grunts with almost every slam home, and Jenny feels nothing but disgust. Jake is like a rutting pig, but he comes quickly. He pulls out and tosses the used condom next to Jenny on the bench.

Another man, someone Jenny has never seen before, steps up. “Jeff!” Jenny exclaims. “Jeff!”

Jeff pushes between two people and approaches the bench with a scowl. “What did I tell you about speaking out of turn?”

Jenny starts to protest, but when he opens his mouth, Jeff forces the gag into it and snaps it onto the mask. “Thought I left this at home, didn’t you? That’ll keep you quiet while you get what you need.” He turned his back and returned to his conversation with Ellis.

The man between his legs is thick – huge arms and barrel chest. He wears his almost colorless hair in a military cut. He lowers the fly of camo pants, and his hard on is like a club. He runs a hand up its bare length before lining up with Jenny’s cunt. Jenny shakes his head, _No, not without a rubber. No_ _._

But the guy opens him back up in one long, relentless thrust, and leans over him. His face is close enough that Jenny can smell the beer on his breath. He gives a rough buck of his hips that makes Jenny flinch.

“I don’t like girls,” he says. “But you’re just a pretend girl.” He slaps Jenny’s left breast. “With a pretend pussy. I like boys, and I’m going to show you how boys get their tight little asses fucked.”

The man puts both hands on the table and begins to give Jenny a slow, deliberate pounding. Jenny’s tits bounce up with each thrust, and the man actually growls at them. Bites one hard enough to bruise. Jenny screams against the gag, but little sound comes out.

“Come on, boy,” the man said. “Show me you can still get hard.”

Jenny shakes his head and begs with his eyes. He can’t do that. Jeff hasn’t given him permission. Without breaking his pace the man stands up and begins to tug at Jenny’s cock. For the first time, Jenny struggles against the restraints, but his dick hardens in the man’s hand. His balls are tight and heavy. He arches off the table with the force of his orgasm. Come shoots hot and slick across his belly and chest, up to his chin.

The man laughs aloud as he fills Jensen’s gut with his jizz. His eyes twinkle as he pulls out. “You’re a boy,” he says. “Remember that.”

Jensen can’t remember the last time he’d been hard or the last time Jeff had really let him come. It was always prostate milking really – whether on Jeff’s fingers or cock or a toy.

He lay there chest heaving in breath and a stranger’s come leaking out of his ass. He looks over and meets Jeff’s eye. This man he’d lived with, changed everything for, just stared back, expressionless, as yet another man thrust his dick into Jensen’s ass.

This guy uses a condom, but pulls out before coming, finishes off with his hand and covers Jensen’s belly with jizz. It becomes a theme – guy after guy tossing their condoms aside until Jensen’s belly and breasts, which have become the prime target, are covered with an icing of come.

Nearly a dozen used condoms lie beside him when the lights go up and there’s shouting. Jensen doesn’t know what to make of it. He’s dazed and sore. The glare of the lights blind him.

Suddenly, everyone around him is in motion. Most are pushing for the rear exits, and he hears someone shout, “Cops!”

Jensen looks around for Jeff, but he’s lost in the commotion. The room clears surprisingly fast. Blue uniforms begin to outnumber leather. Jensen doesn’t bother to fight his restraints. He isn’t frightened or angry that Jeff abandoned him. He’s nothing. He’s empty.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay.” A shadow falls over him, and gentle fingers grip his shoulder. From Jensen’s position, the cop seems impossibly tall.

“Padalecki! Put on your gloves! Jesus, man, he’s covered in jizz!” someone shouts. There’s a flash of light from the left and spots dance in front of Jensen’s eyes.

The officer stops and pulls on latex gloves from his pocket. “I’m Jared, okay? I’m a police officer, and I’m going to get you loose,” he says. His tone his calm, measured as though Jensen is a child or an injured animal. He reaches above Jensen’s head. The tension in his arms eases, but he wants the gag out of his mouth. He can’t swallow properly and feels like he’s going to choke on his own spit. He groans and shakes his head.

“You want that off, huh?” Jared says. Just as he reaches for the mask, Jensen feels someone grab his ankle, his eyes go wide with the memory of his rapists holding his ankles as they fucked him. “Hey! Jared says. It’s okay. It’s just Greenbaum taking the cuffs off. Okay?”

There’s another flash of light as Jared unsnaps the gag and pulls it from Jensen’s mouth. Jensen gasps, chokes, coughs. Tears are streaming from the corners of his eyes again. He sees Jared’s hands shake as he reaches to unbuckle the mask. There are tears in the cop’s hazel eyes.

“Wait,” a voice says, “one more photo first.” The flash goes off again. “Okay, got it.”

Jared unbuckles the mask and eases it off over Jensen’s head. “It’s okay. You’re going to be okay now,” Jared says. His voice is so tender, but his words are meaningless, and Jensen cries harder. Fingers card through his hair. “Jesus, kid, Jesus fucking Christ.”

###

Jensen knows this feeling, this floating sensation of bliss before the pain hits. He felt it after the implant surgery, and it’s the same.

“Of course, additional surgery will be required,” a man says.

A woman is crying. “Thank you, doctor,” she says.

“Disgusting perverts,” another man, his father, says. “Well, we tried to warn him. Didn’t we?”

“Honey, he’s just a boy,” the woman, his mother, replies.

His father scoffs. “Did you see him?”

Jensen wants to sink down into that blissful place again. He wants to die.

###

The room is empty when he opens his eyes for the first time. There’s a balloon with a cartoon bear on it that reads, Get Well Soon. It’s tied to the tray table with a red ribbon. He reaches out and grabs the ribbon, makes the balloon bob on the end. From his little sister, he’s sure. His hand drops back to the bed.

His window has a view of the adjoining roof – a flat expanse of gray gravel – but it’s sunny outside.

Lifting his arm makes his chest ache, and he looks down to see that his chest is flat. An inexplicable anger grips him. He shoves the tray table away and sends it crashing against a chair. It overturns onto the floor. Plastic cup and pitcher skitter across the tile. He gasps and doubles over from the pain across his chest.

“Jensen!” Hands were pushing him back against the pillows, and he sees a flash of flowered scrubs and bright red hair. “What is it?”

“What did you do to me?” he sobs.

“Shh,” she sooths. “Your parents talked to you about this. They said you agreed.”

He wraps his arms around himself just below the bandages and draws his legs up. “No,” he says. “No, they decided. They told me. They ...” He sobs, and he doesn’t know why. He didn’t want to have breasts, didn’t like them. He should be happy to get rid of them, shouldn’t he? “I hated them,” he says.

“Oh, honey,” the nurse says. “Poor baby.” She smoothes his hair back from his face.

Another nurse is injecting something into his IV tube, and he starts to feel calm and floaty. He wishes he could feel this way always.

###

“Happy birthday to you, Happy birthday to you, Happy birthday, dear Jensen, Happy birthday to you!”

He looks around the dining room table where his father sits unsmiling, his mother with tears in her eyes, his little sister is grinning like a maniac, and his brother ... well, he doesn’t even know quite how to interpret his expression.

“Thanks,” he says. He’s eighteen, and from now on he can make his own decisions. It’s both freeing and frightening. No longer will others decide for him, but truth be told, he’s made a mess of the few decisions he has made. He’s apparently a terrible judge of other people. So many have said they cared, said they’d take care of him ...

“Make a wish and blow out the candles!” his sister exclaims.

 _A wish,_ Jensen thinks. _What could I possibly wish for that could come true?_ He looks around the table and takes a deep breath.

###

He knocks on the door marked 36 and fidgets. A man comes out of the next apartment down the hall. Jensen just nods and faces forward. He pulls the ball cap down farther over his eyes as the man passes behind him and heads for the elevator. Jensen knocks again, but there’s no answer.

He sighs and slumps back against the wall. He pulls the prepaid phone from his pocket to check the time. 9:45 p.m. He rubs his nose with the back of his hand. He drops his backpack on the floor and slides down the wall.

Maybe this was a mistake. His first thought had been to ask Ramon or Nick for help, but the club was closed. The windows were covered, and a realty sign hung on the door. He didn’t know of anywhere to find either of them.

Would they have really helped him anyway? Jeff had seemed so kind, warm and supportive ... Jensen just didn’t trust himself anymore. This could be a horrible mistake. You can’t tell from meeting someone once ... Hell, you couldn’t tell from living with someone. He’d lived with his parents for sixteen years.

“Hey, kid.”

He looks up remembering how tall the cop had looked. It hadn’t been an illusion. He really was that tall.

“Jensen?”

“Yeah,” he says. “Hi.”

Jared squats down beside him. “Hey, what are you doing here?”

“I ...” He loses it. Every word that he’d been going to say flies from his mind. “I wanted to thank you.”

Jared raises his eyebrows. “Wow, you’re welcome, but you don’t have to thank me. I mean ...” He narrows his eyes, brows knitted. “How’d you find me anyway?”

“Not many Padaleckis in the phone book,” Jensen says.

“Yeah, I guess not,” Jared says. “Would you like to come in?”

Jensen shrugs like he doesn’t care. “Sure.”

Jared puts out a hand and pulls him to his feet. Jensen isn’t short, but Jared is still taller. He looks different though in civilian clothes. His hair is a little longer, disheveled. He’s handsome in a way that Jensen hadn’t noticed before. He followed Jared into the apartment.

It isn’t large – a living/dining/kitchen area and a short hallway he assumes leads to the bedroom and bathroom. The sofa has seen better days and the coffee table is scuffed from being used as a footstool. It’s strewn with magazines and game controllers and empty glasses.

“Coke or Dew?” Jared asks from the kitchenette.

“Coke. Please,” Jensen answers. He leans on the counter. “This is a nice place.”

Jared set the can of Coke on the counter with a smile. “It’s a wreck.”

Jensen pops the can open and shrugs. “It’s yours though.”

“Yeah. My mother spends all her time cleaning when she comes over. It drives me crazy. When she leaves, I can’t find anything.” Jared grins and takes a drink of Mountain Dew.

Jensen doesn’t know what to say. He bites his lip.

Jared’s smile fades. “What about you? You living with your parents?”

“Was. Yeah, I was.”

“Where you living now?”

Jensen shrugs.

Jared glances at the backpack Jensen left on the couch. “You run away again?”

Jensen’s head comes up. “I didn’t run away. I’m eighteen.”

Jared holds his hands up. “I stand corrected. So you’re just homeless.”

Jensen jaw clenches, and he sets the Coke down before grabbing his backpack and heading for the door.

“Jensen, wait! Don’t just walk out, man.”

He stops with his hand on the door handle.

“You came to me for a reason, right? You want my help? I’ll help you, if I can.”

Jensen looks over. Jared is standing with his palms on the counter. He looks like a kicked dog.

“Come on,” Jared says. “Drink your Coke. I’m starving. You hungry?” He pulls his cell phone from his pocket. “I’m gonna order a pizza. Anything you hate on pizza?”

Jensen sits his backpack on the floor by the door. “Anchovies,” he says.

“I know, right?” Jared grins. “Disgusting.” Jared’s smile is like sunlight breaking through the clouds after a long, bleary winter day.

Jensen laughs. “Totally. Like fishbait.”

“Exactly,” Jared says; then into the phone, “Hey, yeah, I’m good. Yep, the usual, but make it an extra-large. Yeah, funny. I’m extra hungry.” He rolls his eyes, clicks off the phone and lays it on the counter. Take your coat off, dude. Have a seat.”

Jensen is wearing a bulky canvas jacket that’s a size too big. He’s hot, and it’s weird to keep his coat on anyway. He shrugs it off and hangs it on the back of a dining chair. He can’t help but notice Jared checking out his chest, and he blushes.

Jared looks just as uncomfortable. He clears his throat. “So you had surgery.”

Jensen just nods and slides onto a barstool. He leans on his elbows and doesn’t look up.

“Look, tell me to shut up if you don’t want to talk about this,” Jared says. “But is that a bad thing?”

“No,” Jensen says. “No, I hated them. It’s just that ... my parents just sort of bullied me into it, you know? And ...” He doesn’t know what else to say or how to explain his anger even to himself. They’d done the right thing.

There’s silence for a moment. “Yeah,” Jared says, “I get it. You need to make your own decisions.”

“Yeah,” Jensen says. He feels relieved, like a knot has loosened in his chest. “I mean, I know I’ve made some piss poor decisions.”

“Other people have made even worse ones for you,” Jared said. “And, Jensen, I know you probably don’t want to hear this, but you were a kid. Jeff Morgan took advantage of that and of the situation you were in. He’s an adult. He has no excuse. He’s going to go to jail. Give yourself a break.”

“Thanks,” Jensen says.

There is a knock on the door. “Yes!” Jared says and heads to answer it. He confers for a moment with the delivery guy, joking and laughing. Jensen relaxes a little. Jared laughs kind of worms its way into him all warm and light. A moment later, the pizza box is dropped in front of him.

“Dig in,” Jared says.

###

Jensen’s been lying awake on Jared’s couch for over an hour when he hears the bedroom door open. There’s movement in the kitchen, water running, then the smell of coffee brewing. He doesn’t make a sound. He doesn’t want to face the day. He’d like to stay right here on Jared’s sofa, but he knows he can’t.

He sighs and sits up.

“Hey, sleepyhead,” Jared says. “You drink coffee?”

“Yeah.” Jensen rubs his hands over his face and starts to get up.

“Nah, don’t get up. I’m coming in there anyway,” Jared says. “How do you take it?”

“Black.

“Wow,” Jared chuckles. “The hard stuff.” Jared shuffles in. He’s barefoot, wearing sleep pants that barely hang on his slim hips and a ratty t-shirt stretched across his broad chest. His hair is a mess and his cheeks rough with stubble. Jensen reaches out for the coffee, suddenly needing it to wet his throat. Jared sits down on the coffee table. He’s so close his knee is pressed against Jensen’s thigh.

Jensen doesn’t know what Jared sees on his face, but he smiles a little. “Nervous? … about today, I mean,” Jared asks.

Jensen takes a sip of steaming coffee and nods. “Yeah, I guess so.”

“Look, the folks at New Horizons are great,” Jared said. “It isn’t one of those crazy religious things. They aren’t going to judge you, and they’ll help you find a place to live, work, go to school, whatever you need.”

Jensen just nods again and sips his coffee.

“Jensen,” Jared said. “If you need a friend, someone to talk to, I’ll give you my number. You know where I live. I’m not just trying to pawn you off on someone else, but I just don’t have the knowledge or resources to help you the way you need. You understand that, right?”

“I know,” Jensen says. “I need to learn to live on my own.”

“”Yeah, you do.


	3. Chapter 3

“So, this is your room,” Gloria says. “You’ll be sharing with Noah. He’s at work right now, but I’ll introduce you when he gets in. I think you’ll get along fine. He’s a good guy. Your bed is the one against the wall.”

Jensen nodded and looked around the narrow room. It was pale yellow with dark wood trim. It was how he imagined a dorm room – two twin beds, desks, shelves.

“Is he, um, is he gay?” Jensen asks.

“Yes,” she said. “You know the rules – no sexual contact between residents. It’s for everyone’s protection.”

Jensen nods again. “Yes.”

“Okay,” she says and smiles. “So, you have therapy with Dr. Forrester Monday and Thursday afternoons, high school classes Monday, Wednesday and Friday mornings at the alternative school, and tomorrow we’ll see about finding you a job. Sound good?”

“Yeah,” Jensen says. “Sounds good.” He smiles because he should. He should be grateful, he should be pleased, but he just feels anxious.

“Great,” she says. Come on downstairs when you get settled in, and I’ll introduce you to the other staff members and whoever’s around, okay?”

“Okay,” Jensen replies. She smiles and pulls the door closed behind her. Jensen sits down on the bed, his bed, but the strap of his backpack is still on his shoulder.

Gloria is the director of New Horizons, a program for homeless and runaway kids. They don’t usually let anyone over 18 in, but she made an exception for Jensen because of his history and because Jared was just so damn persistent and persuasive. He’d turned on the puppy eyes with full force, and she’d melted. Jensen thinks he might actually find that funny someday, but right now he can’t think beyond trying to get the balls to go downstairs and meet everyone else. He wonders if they will be as nice as Jared and Gloria. He doesn’t quite know how to deal. Everyone’s been nice. Jeff was nice too.

###

“Yeah, so, I go to Central High,” Noah says. He’s only 17, and he hadn’t missed more than a few months of high school, so he’d been mainstreamed into the local high school. He’s sprawled across his bed, one leg dangling over the side, his head on his folded arms, staring up at the ceiling. “The kids can be kind of douchey to us, to the New Horizons kids, but hell, compared to selling my ass on the street …” He raises his head and looks at Jensen. “Been there?”

Jensen stops chewing his lower lip. “On the street? Yeah.”

Noah lets his head drop back to his arms. “Yeah, who hasn’t, huh?”

Most everyone, Jensen thinks. Unlike Noah’s casual lounging, he’s sitting with his back to the wall, arms around his knees. He knows he must look defensive. He is defensive.

“I mean, around here,” Noah says. “Pretty much all the ‘residents’ have sold their ass on the street. So, you know, don’t feel … I felt really bad about myself at first, you know? Like, I was ashamed of what I’d done, but I did what I had to. We all have, right?”

Jensen is fidgeting, pulling the cuffs of his hoodie down over his hands, and curling his toes into the bedspread. “Yeah, I guess,” he says.

“Huh?”

“I guess so, yeah,” Jensen says a little louder.

###

The chair is upholstered in fabric with a raised stripe pattern in varying shades of green, and Jensen keeps running his thumbnails back and forth along the stripes, feeling the raised weave rub up the nail bed under his nail. Dr. Forrester is leaning on his desk, shirt sleeves rolled up and glasses halfway down his nose. Jensen chews on his lips.

”Have you settled in at New Horizons?” the therapist asks. He has the remnants of some kind of Southern accent that Jensen can’t place – the Carolinas maybe, or Georgia.

Jensen nods. “Yeah.”

“You have a roommate, right? Noah? Tell me about him.”

“He’s okay, I guess. He talks a lot.”

“You don’t like that?”

“No, it’s fine. I don’t mind.” Jensen puts his hands into his lap and pulls them into his sleeves. “Is this what we’re supposed to do, talk about my roommate?”

“We’re here to talk. What do you want to talk about?”

“I don’t.”

###

He’d gotten a job flipping burgers at McDonald’s. Noah already worked the counter. Sometimes their shifts overlap, and they walk to work together accompanied by Noah’s running monologue. Jensen doesn’t mind.

“So the guy changed his order like four times,” Noah says and throws his hands up as they walk back toward the house. “I rolled my eyes. I admit it, but honestly, man, it was like the dude was trying to make me crazy, you know? But that’s when Mr. Manager Ass happened to be looking.”

Jensen just nods and keeps walking, hands stuffed in his pockets, head down.

“So he gave me a ‘verbal reprimand,’” he says in imitation of the manager’s serious tone. “I mean, right?”

“Yeah, right,” Jensen says. He’d seen the exchange. He’d been moved to the counter as well a couple days before, and he knew there was more to the exchange than Noah’s eye roll. The customer had been confused. He had changed his order, but Noah had been abrupt from the start – not really rude, but not friendly either.

Jensen got it. He really did. It was a boring, demeaning job that tried his patience as well, but it was what it was – some money and experience.

They walk in silence for a while from pool of light to pool of light down the block under the harvest moon. Dried leaves blow across the pavement and rattle in the trees.

“This reminds me of Halloween when I was a kid, you know?” Noah says. “Just ... the feel in the air.”

Jensen doesn’t say anything. The memory of holding his little sister’s hand as they followed his brother up a sidewalk to a porch  flanked with Jack-o-lanterns springs fully formed to life in his head – the heat of her small hand as it gripped his in apprehension, Justin’s  voice filled with the confidence of a fifth-grader, the smell of popcorn balls from Mrs. White’s house. He bites his lip, and his eyes sting.

“I miss my mom and dad,” Noah says. “How about you?”

The memory is gone like kindling in a fire. “No, I don’t.”

###

Jensen hasn’t been in school for two years, but the high school classes aren’t that hard. It’s kind of nice, soothing even, to do homework. It pulls him out of the memories and makes the time pass more quickly. His grades have been good.

“Okay, so Lord of the Flies is an allegorical novel, yes?” Ms. Lloyd says. She pushes a strand of chestnut hair behind her ear. “What does that mean? Yes, Kelsee?”

“The characters represent the themes of the novel,” a blonde girl in the front says. She answers all the time, seems really confident, but when no one is looking, she pulls out her eyebrow and eyelash hairs – what few are left. To compensate, she wears heavy eyeliner and draws on black eyebrows.

“That’s right. Can you tell me what Ralph represents, Kelsee?” Ms. Lloyd leans back against her desk, her slim ankles crossed.

“He represents the civilizing impulse in society,” she answers. “He tries to get the other boys to build a stable society.” Jensen is only half listening. He’s slumped in his seat, two desks from the back at the far side of the room.

“That’s right,” Ms. Lloyd says. “And the conch shell is symbolic of that, yes? It represents what?” As she looks around the room for a hand, her crimson nails tap against the front of the desk.

“Democracy,” Kelsee blurts out.

Jensen wraps a raveling hanging from the hem of his hoodie around his index finger, clockwise, counter-clockwise, back again.

“Thank you, Kelsee,” Ms. Lloyd says. “Can someone else tell me what Jack represents?” She looks around. “Jensen? How about you? Can you tell me what allegorical element Jack represents?”

He’s frozen for a moment. A couple students turn and look at him. He licks his lips. “Jack is the impulse toward savagery,” he says. “He represents society’s urge to degenerate into violence and destruction. He’s, um, kind of the id, isn’t he? The desire to act selfishly and without empathy or remorse, to take without consideration for the welfare of others, only oneself. And Roger is even worse – he’s like a sociopath. He is, um, he’s the absence of a social contract, religion, or morality.”

A number of students have turned to look at Jensen who has never spoken in class before. Ms. Lloyd nods. “That’s right, Jensen,” she says. “Thank you.” She pushes herself away from the desk and goes to the whiteboard and makes quick notes. “Now for our next class, I’d like you to all choose three characters or objects that we haven’t discussed – could be Piggy or the parachutist or Simon, whatever you like – and write at least one paragraph each on what they represent in the novel. Any questions? Okay, see you all Wednesday.”

Jensen keeps his head down as students rise around him and begin to file out. He rubs his sweaty palms on his jeans before stuffing his book in his backpack and joining the students shuffling out the door.

“Jensen!” Ms. Lloyd calls.

He wants to pretend that he doesn’t hear, but there is a knot of students still blocking the door, he can’t escape. He turns toward her.

“I didn’t mean to put you on the spot,” she says, “but I know you know this stuff. I can see in your papers and tests that you think beyond what you’re being asked. I’d really like you to participate more. Your ideas would benefit your fellow students.”

Jensen tries to control his breathing, tries to think of something to say and nods.

“You know, you aren’t getting good grades in here because you aren’t disruptive.” She smiles. “Your papers have been really insightful, and I was hoping that your interest in the books we’ve read would be enough to get you to participate in class. I mean, you are interested in the reading, aren’t you?”

He can’t help but smile a little at that. Even when he lived Jeff, reading was one of the few things that helped him get out of own head, his fucked up life. “Yeah,” he says. “I like to read.”

She smiles. “Have you considered going to college when you’re done here?”

“No,” he says. He’s got his hands fisted in the sleeves of his hoodie.

“You really should. You have the academic ability,” she says. “And you could read lots of books.” She grins. “You know, when I started college, I was a communications major. I took two Lit  classes and was hooked. I switched to education with a minor in Lit.”

“I don’t know., I ... no, I don’t really have a way ...” he says.

“Think about it, and talk to Gloria,” she says. “There are grant and loan programs. It might not cost you a thing.”

“Okay, I’ll think about it,” he says.

“Good,” she says. “And participate more in class?”

“I’ll, um, I’ll try,” he says.

“That’s all I ask,” she says. “If it helps, pretend that it’s just me and you. Just talk to me. But believe me, Jensen, the other students aren’t judging you. You are as bright as anyone in here.”

He just nods before leaving. Of course, he’s as smart. He just doesn’t want them to see him. If they don’t see him, if he’s invisible, he’s safe. He just wants to be safe.

###

Jensen is sitting cross-legged on his bed with is Earth Science book open on his lap. He has a test on plate tectonics in the morning, and he’s pretty sure he has the information down but review never hurts.

“Subduction is when one plate moves under another,” he says beneath his breath.

“What are you mumbling about?”  Noah asks and plops down on Jensen’s bed. He pushes himself back against the wall, his shoulder bumping Jensen’s.

“Mm, studyin’,” Jensen says without looking up.

“Wish you’d pay as much attention to me as you do your homework,” Noah says.

“Uh-huh,” Jensen says absently. Then Noah’s words sink in, and Jensen side-eyes his roommate. “What?”

Noah looks away, kind of sheepishly. “I like you, you know. I mean ...” He tips his head away.

“I ...” Jensen is at a loss. “Sure, I mean, we’re friends, right?”

Noah twists around so he’s facing Jensen. “No, I mean ... I like you, Jensen. You’re great.” He leans in close, and Jensen freezes. Noah hesitates before pressing his lips to Jensen’s. Noah tips his head, lips tasting Jensen, tongue sliding along the seam of his lips, pressing. Noah’s hand goes to the back of Jensen’s neck, fingers slip into the short hair at the base of his skull. Jensen shivers. His mouth is full of Noah’s tongue. Jensen’s hands are clenched on top of his science book, and Noah makes a humming sound in his throat before breaking the kiss. He licks his lips and smiles almost shyly.

“I, I guess, I should let you do your homework, huh?”

Jensen nods stiffly, takes a deep breath as Noah sprawls across his own bed and puts in earbuds. There’s a trembling feeling Jensen’s gut like something cold and dark and old that’s swum from the depth of the ocean is living there beneath the surface.

###

“Did you ever read Kafka’s Metamorphosis?” Jensen asks.

“No, tell me about it,” Forrester says. He leans back in his chair with his ankle crossed over his knee.

Jensen’s eyes narrow, because surely everyone’s read it. He shrugs. “It’s about a guy who wakes up one day and he’s turned into a giant cockroach.”

Forrester nods. “Okay?” He taps the end of a pen on his knee.

“That happened to me,” Jensen says. His voice is barely above a whisper. “You know, but ... I don’t mean I was a cockroach ... but I wasn’t me.”

“Who were you?”

“I girl named Jenny, a slut, a ... doormat, something worthless,” he says. “But I didn’t know that. Not till the end.”

“The end?” Forrester asks.

“You have my file,” Jensen says. He leans forward with his elbows on his knees. “You know what I’m talking about. Don’t pretend you don’t.” His voice sounds a shade too low, almost a growl. Anger is pushing its way into his throat.

“You mean the night the cops raided the Harness Club?”

“That’s what you want me to talk about, isn’t it?” Jensen asks. He stands and paces. “You want me to talk about how I kissed Drew Woods, and his brother saw us and told his parents who took it upon themselves to out me to my parents, and my parents ...” He’s not looking at Forrester, but anywhere else as he moves from the chair to the door back to the chair.  “My dad told me that gays are a bunch of sick degenerates.” Jensen let out a bitter laugh. “Like that isn’t fucking redundant, but, hey, if they are then I am, right? So I left. And he was right! Because all I could do was whore myself out, but then I met Jeff and he was nice. I liked sleeping with him, you know? But then ... then ...” He stops, and tears fill his eyes.

Forrester doesn’t say anything. His brows are knitted, and he waits.

“What’s wrong with me?” He asks. “Why do I let people do things to me that I don’t want?”

###

“What kind of story do you think it is,” Ms. Lloyd asks.

“It’s a ghost story,” says Malcolm, a talkative, lanky kid with a lopsided smile. He looks around and shrugs. “The governess sees ghosts that she thinks threaten the kids. Pretty simple.”

“Yes, Kelsee?” Ms. Lloyd says acknowledging the bobbing hand in front of her.

“But we don’t know that,” Kelsee counters. “She’s an unreliable narrator. We don’t know whether she sees them or whether she imagines them.”

“Okay,” Ms. Lloyd says with a nod. “Why would she imagine them?”

Well, Kelsee pauses as though she hadn’t really thought that far. “She’s crazy,” she says as though that’s answer enough.

“Any other thoughts?” Ms. Lloyd asks. She looks at Jensen and raises her brows.

“I think, James saw her as a victim of her society,” he says. He hesitates a moment before continuing. “His portrayal is colored by it too. She’s single, virginal. She has to be to be respectable. She has to suppress her sexuality, but it’s there. She hears about Peter Quint and his inappropriate relationship with the last governess. It affects her mind, her imagination. She’s, um, starved for affection, I think, too. The way she hugs the kids all the time and kisses Miles. Affection and desire become tangled up. Maybe, she is unstable, but I think James was trying to say that when natural human need is denied that way, it can warp someone’s mind.”

Kelsee twists around in her seat. “That’s just sexist to say that women go crazy when they don’t have sex,” she says.

“Like I said, his portrayal was colored by his society too,” Jensen says. “The idea that women were ‘hysterics,’ but the idea that women have the same need for a sexual life as men was kind of forward thinking. And, you know, he didn’t necessarily mean for her to represent all women. Just that what happened to her was a possibility. I mean, not all male characters represent all men either.” Jensen smiled a little then. “He probably figured that men would go crazy without sex, so women would to.”

Ms. Lloyd chuckles. “Okay, so for our next glass I want each of you to write a three-page position paper on _The Turn of the Screw_ , and I want you to give _textual evidence_ to back up your position,” she says.

Once again, she calls out his name before he can get to the door. “I’m glad you took into account the era that Henry James lived in,” she said. “It’s easy to overlook that when reading.”

“Really?” he asks. “I mean, we can’t judge something written over a hundred years ago by today’s standards.”

“You’re right,” she says, “but people often do.”

“Well, that’s just stupid,” he says.

She lets out a surprised laugh, and Jensen blushes.

“I don’t mean stupid ...”

“Yes, you do,” she laughs.

His face gets even hotter and he looks at the toes of his sneakers. “I guess, I do,” he admits.

“Listen, have you thought anymore about college?” she asks.

“I ... yeah, I have,” he says.

“Good, because I’m not going to let this go,” she says with a smile. “If you need any help, you let me know. I’ll talk to Gloria, if you want. I can give you a letter of recommendation. Okay?”

Jensen smiles. “Okay, thanks.”

###

They’ve just walked into their room. Jensen drops his backpack and jacket on the floor, and Noah presses him back against the door, hands holding him in place, and his mouth covers Jensen’s as though he’s about to devour him. Jensen doesn’t move for a moment. His eyes go wide before falling shut. Noah pushes his thigh between Jensen’s legs, and Jensen can feel Noah’s hard on through two layers of denim. Noah’s hips roll, his thigh rubbing against Jensen’s crotch, and Jensen’s cock begins to fatten.

He gasps as Noah breaks the kiss, mouths along his jaw. “You’re so hot, Jensen,” he murmurs. “Fuck.” His teeth scrape along the sensitive spot below Jensen’s ear, and Jensen’s hips buck against him. “Jesus!”

He pulls away enough to get his hands between them and opens Jensen’s fly. His hand dives into Jensen’s shorts, stroke along his cock, and Jensen feels weak. His head bangs against the door.

Noah shushes him in a tremulous voice. He keeps stroking and kisses Jensen’s bared throat. Jensen feels chilled and fevered and doesn’t know what to do with his hands so he grips Noah’s upper arms. Jensen’s breathing is fast and shallow, but Noah is making strange almost sobbing sounds.

“Please, Jensen,” he says.

“What?”

Noah grabs Jensen’s right hand and guides it to his cock while continuing to stroke Jensen’s. “Please,” he begs.

Jensen wraps his fingers around it – hot and hard and slick with precome – and matches Noah’s pace with his own. It’s a strange kind of disconnect like jacking off from another dimension. If he closed his eyes, he could almost pretend it was his own hand on his cock, but he couldn’t pretend away the mouth wetting his skin or the bit back moans in his ears.

“God, I want to fuck you,” Noah moans and his hot, slick release coats Jensen’s hand. He leans heavily against Jensen, face pressed into the curve of Jensen’s neck. His hand falters for only a moment before his thumb is sliding over the slit and under the head, rubbing that little bundle of nerves that makes Jensen’s balls draw up. He bites his lip as the orgasm hits. His body shakes with pleasure trapped between Noah and the solid wood door. He bites his lip to keep from crying out.

“Yeah,” Noah says, “yeah.” He’s kissing Jensen’s neck again, moving to his lips. “Fuck,” he says as he leans back. He smiles as his gaze flicks over Jensen’s face. “You’re so fucking pretty.”

###

The woman shoves an open cheese burger toward him. “This wasn’t supposed to have mustard on it.” There are bright spots of color on her cheeks, and her mouth is twisted in an ugly way.

“I’m sorry,” Jensen says automatically. He takes the burger from her and tosses it into the trash as walks back to the line. “I need a cheeseburger, no mustard,” he yells back to Blanca who rolls her eyes. It’s not his first mistake of the shift. “Sorry,” he mouths, and she waves her hand at him.

A moment later Blanca slides the burger down the shoot, and Jensen takes it to the still surly customer.

“Here you go, ma’am,” he says. “Sorry about the mistake.”

“Now my fries will be cold,” she says and walks off.

He just nods and smiles at the next person in line who is now annoyed that he had to wait. “May I help you?” Jensen says.

###

Jensen didn’t quite finish _Catcher in the Rye_ , and he can’t remember much of what he did read. He kept reading passages over and over, but the words just weren’t sinking in. He couldn’t remember what he read a moment after he read it.

He’s slouched lower than usual in his seat picking at the frayed hole in the upper thigh of his jeans. He wonders if the previous owner placed the hole there artfully. How else would someone get a hole there?

“So, Jensen, do we agree that Holden Caulfield is searching for intimacy with other people?” Ms. Lloyd asks.

It’s the first thing he’s heard in twenty minutes, and he looks up, eyes wide, and shakes his head. “I ...” He bites his lip and looks away.

“Okay, Kelsee?” she says. There’s tension between her brows, and she looks at him every few moments.

Of course she stops him at the end of class even though he’s one of the first out of his seat and headed for the door. She draws him aside.

“Are you okay?” she asks.

“Yeah, just ... I didn’t sleep well.” It’s not a lie exactly. He didn’t sleep well.

“Okay, well, if you ever want to talk ... about anything, you know how to find me, right?” she says.

“Yeah, thanks.”

He shuffles out the door. Funny how everyone wants him to talk.

###

Jensen is pressed into the mattress with his boxers and sleep pants around his thighs. Noah’s legs bracket his as his mouth steals Jensen’s breath. The hard lengths of their cocks slide together, slicked with precome and Noah’s spit with each roll of his pelvis.

There are fingers tugging at Jensen’s hair and gripping his arm. Jensen is suffocating. His lungs fighting for air as he sucks breath in through his nose. He struggles to turn his head away, and Noah breaks the kiss. He catches Jensen’s right nipple between his lips, sucks hard as he continues to rut his hips. His teeth graze the nipple and Jensen climaxes so hard he sees flashes of light behind his closed eyelids.

He coats their bellies with hot spent, and Noah sucks at the other nipple, sending aftershocks through Jensen’s body. Noah throws his head back with a gasp as he shoots ropey jets of come across Jensen’s belly and chest.

“Fuck,” he gasps. “Fuck, you’re so awesome, baby.”

###

“I’m thinking of leaving,” Jensen says. His hands grip the arms of the green striped chair.

“Leaving?” Forrester says. He leans forward with his elbows on the desk. “The program?”

Jensen nods. “Yeah.”

“Why?” The doctor tips his head and light reflects off the lenses of his glasses, hiding his eyes for a moment.

“I ...” Jensen doesn’t know what to say and chews on his thumbnail a moment. “I don’t know. It just doesn’t feel right. I’m thinking about going home.”

“Home?” Forrester nods. “Have you spoken with your family?”

“No, not ... no, I haven’t, but home, when you go there, they have to let you in, right?” He tries to make it sound light.

Forrester’s brows knit. “You’ve left twice.”

“Yeah,” he says.

“You think it would be different this time?” Forrester asks.

Jensen sighs, and any hope leaves him with the breath. “No,” he says.

###

It’s almost 10 p.m., and Jensen is studying in the dining room. He needs to go up to bed. He has class in the morning.

He leans back and rubs his eyes. Anymore studying is useless. He’s either going to pass the test or he isn’t.

He pulls his backpack open and fumbles open the zipper on the little inside pocket, pulls out a blue Post-It note. The paper is soft and worn. Scrawled in blue ink – Jared 555-0794.

Jensen stares at it a long time before putting it back and zipping the pocket closed.

###

Jensen edges quietly into the bedroom without turning on the lights. He already has his pajama bottoms and a t-shirt on, and he slips into bed. He curls up on his side with his back to Noah’s bed.

“You were studying late,” Noah says into the darkness.

“Yeah,” Jensen says.

He hears the covers rustle on Noah’s bed and the thump of the other boy’s feet hitting the floor. Moments later, Noah slips into bed behind him. He nuzzles the back of Jensen’s neck. Noah’s cock is already hard against his ass. He humps against Jensen. His hand slides into Jensen’s bottoms and tugs at his limp cock.

“Wish you’d come up earlier,” Noah whispers. “Wanted to spend some time with you.”

His hips continue to roll, and his hand is stroking the length of Jensen’s thickening cock. He’s propped up on one elbow and has to withdraw his hand from Jensen’s pants in order to push them down. For the first time, he doesn’t stop with them around Jensen’s thighs. He continues until they’re around his ankles and then grabs Jensen’s top leg and tries to pull his foot out.

“Help me out here, dude,” Noah says.

Jensen flexes his ankle to let the fabric slide free. He moves back into place behind Jensen and pulls Jensen’s leg up till it’s bent high at the knee. He pushes on Jensen’s shoulder until he’s nearly on his stomach.

Soft kisses trail across Jensen’s shoulder. “God, want you so bad,” Noah whispers.

He feels Noah twist around and hears the sound of the nightstand drawer opening and closing, then the click of a plastic bottle cap. It’s a sound so familiar to Jensen that it brings back a thousand sensations, smells, and images. His breath catches in his throat as a slick finger nudges his asshole and slides in. Noah groans and his hips buck. Jensen doesn’t move as the finger begins to fuck into him.

Soon, a second finger joins the first, and there’s no discomfort. It’s been a long while, but Jensen knows how to do this after all. He’s taken far more. The fingers crook, rub over his prostate, and his erection starts to flag.

“No,” he says, “not there.”

Noah hesitates, but straightens his fingers; then pushes a third in, twists, scissors. “You’re ready, right?” The fingers plunge in deep again. “Yeah, I can’t wait. Jesus fucking Christ.”

The fingers pull out, and Jensen hears the crackle of a condom packet. Noah wiggles around and then the thick head of his cock is pushing against those well-trained muscles, and his hole opens like the mouth of an obedient dog just waiting to swallow down its fill.

Jensen gasps and fists curl in the sheets. He shudders.

“Yeah,” Noah sighs. “Amazing,” he says as he begins to thrust into Jensen’s body, filling and claiming him like pioneer staking out a homestead.

Jensen twists, grabbing at the edge of the thin mattress. “Good, huh?” Noah says and pulls Jensen’s hips back, pushing in deeper. He picks up the pace, and Jensen’s body responds. His balls are full and heavy, his cock leaking precome into the linens. The head of Noah’s dick rubs over his prostate just often enough to light it up, but not often enough to kill his erection.

He buries his face in the pillow to stop whatever sounds might escape. He’s beginning to think he might get through this okay when Noah reaches around and strokes his cock with a practiced hand, and his body goes tight as a bowstring. A shocked cry stabs into the pillow, and Jensen feels his muscles clench around the thick flesh that’s invaded his body. Pleasure washes through him, and it all feels so good and wrong.

A moment later, Noah breathes out a “fuck” as his movements falter, and he pushes in deep, ruts against Jensen as he fills the condom. He kisses Jensen’s shoulder. “That was amazing,” he says. He wipes his hand on Jensen’s sheets and strokes his shoulder. “So glad you came here, Jensen,” he whispers. When Jensen doesn’t reply, he says, “I better let you get some sleep since you got a test in the morning. Night.”

Jensen nods. “Night.”

He lets his cock slide from Jensen’s ass and rolls out of bed. Jensen lies there in his own come. There’s a warm, pleasant and all too familiar sensation in his fucked out ass. Maybe, Jeff was right. Maybe, he does like to be used.

As Noah’s breathing slows and deepens, Jensen sobs in a breath and curls into a ball as tears fill his eyes. The more he tries to hold it back, the harder his body tries to shake apart. He’s going to come undone. If he doesn’t leave or something, he’s going fall apart.

###

Jensen misses his science test and goes to Dr. Forrester’s office. He doesn’t have an appointment, but the secretary takes one look at him and tells him to sit down. She gets on the phone and starts making calls, and when the patient leaves the therapist’s inner office, she picks up the phone and speaks quietly with one eye on Jensen.

The Forrester’s door opens, and he looks out. “Jensen? Hey, come on in.”

He doesn’t sit down at his desk. Instead, he sits in the brown leather chair beside the green striped one where Jensen sits. “What’s going on?” he asks.

“I … I don’t know what to do,” Jensen says.

“About what”? Forrester asks.

“Noah, he … It’s against the rules at the house, having sex is,” he says.

“You’re having sex with Noah?” Forrester asks.

Jensen gives a slight shake of his head. “He’s having sex with me.”

Forrester’s brows pulled together. “Jensen, did Noah rape you?”

“No. I didn’t  … I didn’t say no.” He feels that sick, trembling in his gut again. “Why didn’t I say no?” Tears fill his eyes.

###

“So what’s this about?” Noah says. He looks at Gloria and Dr. Forrester, then at Jensen, but Jensen can’t meet his eye. He’d gone to Forrester because the doctor was bound to confidentiality, but he’d convinced Jensen that he needed to tell the truth, that he and Noah needed to face the consequences of breaking the rules. Keeping it a secret, Jensen had to admit, wasn’t dealing with it and it wouldn’t change the situation.

“Noah, you and Jensen both know there’s a rule about residents not having sex,” Gloria says.

Noah’s mouth drops open. “You told them?” he asks Jensen. “Why would you do that? Why would you tell them?”

“Noah,” Gloria says, drawing his attention back to her. “There are very good reasons that we don’t allow it. Most of the residents have been through traumatic experiences. This is supposed to be a safe place where they can learn to deal with their experiences. Do you understand that?”

“Yeah,” he says, but he looks confused.

“Noah, Jensen has told Forrester that he didn’t want to have sex,” she says.

Noah’s mouth dropped open, but shock was quickly replaced by anger. “That’s not true,” he says. “That’s a lie! You kissed me back. You wanted to!”

Jensen shakes his head. “No.”

“You never said you didn’t want to,” Noah says. “You never said, No.”

“I never said, Yes.”

And it’s as though Noah is reviewing every intimate moment they’d spent together in quicktime. Emotions flicker over his features – the anger giving way to disbelief and realization and then anguish. “Oh God, you didn’t? You … I just thought … You’re so shy, I just thought …” Noah’s jaw clenched as he looked away and tears streamed down his face.

“I’m sorry,” Jensen said.


	4. Chapter 4

“Ms. Lloyd?” Jensen is sitting on the edge of his futon. He holds the prepaid cell phone to his ear and taps his foot.

“Yes.”

“This is Jensen … Ackles.”

“Jensen! Hey, how are you?”

“I’m, uh … I’m okay.”

“It’s great to hear from you,” she says. There’s a pause. “Jensen, do you want to get together? Have a cup of coffee or something?”

“No, no,” he says and flops back onto the futon. “No, I just … I have a new apartment and a new job and I start classes at the college this week and …”

“Just wanted to hear a familiar voice” she asks.

“Yeah, I guess so, he says,” and the knot of tension in his chest starts to unravel.

“I’m glad you called me,” she says, there’s warmth in her. “So are you looking forward to starting classes?”

“Yeah, I am,” he says. “I have Early American Lit.” He pulls the syllabus from his backpack. “Hawthorne, Thoreau, Emerson, Melville …”

“Sounds like fun,” she says.

“Yeah, I’m also signed up for Logic,  Art History, Spanish, and Psych, so maybe I can figure out what the fuck is wrong with me,” he says.

“Jensen,” she says in that adult tone that makes him want to jab a pen knife in his ear. “There’s … I don’t know the details, but since you were at New Horizons, I have to assume that you’ve been through some rough experiences in your life. You’re a smart guy, strong, and nice.”

He’s relieved that she didn’t try to feed him some pabulum about not being fucked up, but says, “You don’t know me.”

“I’ve read a lot of your writing, and I kind of feel like I do,” she replies.

Burning tears fill his eyes, and he has to take a deep breath before he can answer. “Thanks.”

“De nada,” she says, and there’s a smile in her voice.

He chuckles. “I should get going,” he says.

“Okay, listen, call anytime if you want to get together for that coffee or bounce paper ideas off me or whatever.”

“Okay, that’d be great,” he says. “Bye.”

“Bye, Jensen. Take care.”

“Yeah, you too.”

He clicks off the phone and sits up, looks around his tiny apartment. He can see everything from the futon – the kitchenette with the two burner stove and half-sized refrigerator, the bathroom with the toilet wedged between the sink and shower stall, closet with a curtain for a door.  Besides the futon, the only furniture is a two-drawer bureau that doubles as a nightstand/end table, the scarred kitchen table with a wobbly leg, two mismatched chairs and small bookcase.

But it’s his. Alone.

There’s no one to tell him what to do. No one’s will to comply with. No one to crawl into his bed.

###

“Jensen!”

He looks around the student lounge and spots a table full of halfway familiar faces from his Lit class.

“Hey! Jensen, right?” The guy says in response to his look of confusion.

“Yeah,” he replies but doesn’t move closer.

“Dude, come here,” the blond says.

“We could really use your help,” the dark haired girl, Sarah? Sandy? Some S-name, says. She pushes the empty chair next to her away from the table and angles it toward him. Jensen looks warily from Sandy to Chad, yeah that’s his name. Chad the hyper, chatty one that exasperates Dr. Anderson.

Jensen sinks into the chair with his backpack on his lap. In addition to Sandy and Chad are Aldis who has a quick smile and Chris, long-haired and blue-eyed, who’s slouched, knees wide in his chair. His look is almost as wary, or suspicious maybe, as Jensen’s.

“My help?” he asks.

“Yeah,” Sandy says. “Here’s the question: Why does Hester Prynne keep wearing the scarlet A?”

Jensen looks around the group like it was a trick question, which it isn’t, obviously, because it’s a study question at the back of the book. Chad leans forward with his elbows on the table and a smirky grin. Aldis seems completely neutral, and Chris crosses his arms over his chest with a tip of head. Sandy is turned toward him, expectant, with her hand still resting on the back of his chair.

“Well,” he says, “the letter is meant to define her, label her as an adulteress – a whore.”

“Right,” Chad interrupts. “So why doesn’t she take it off when she gets the chance? She feels like she should be punished, ostracized.”

Jensen shakes his head. “No, that’s not it. She … It’s like blacks try to take back the n-word by using within their culture.” He glances at Aldis who raises an eyebrow. “She wants to redefine the symbol and take away its power. In the end, she comes to represent the repression of women in her society.”

Chad pouts a little. “Whatever,” he says.

“No,” Jensen counters, “not whatever. People shouldn’t have to live by the labels that society puts on them.” He’s surprised by how strongly he feels about this and the way it comes out, almost angrily.

“See, told you,” Sandy says, and Aldis grins.

“Hey,” Chad says, “just because Jenny says it, doesn’t make it the right answer in class.”

Jensen’s stomach turns over at the sound of the nickname. “Don’t call me that,” he says quietly.

Chad grins and rolls his eyes. “Oh, come on. I’m just teasing, Jenny.”

That’s it. Jensen feels sick. He shoves away from the table fast enough that his chair almost goes over when he stands. He rushes to towards the exit and the restrooms in the hallway.

“Hey! Don’t be mad!” Chad yells.

“Shut up, Chad! You’re such an asshole!” Sandy shouts.

Jensen is in the hallway, and he’s pretty sure he isn’t going to make it. His gorge is in his throat, pushing its way up and out. He slams the restroom door open and nearly plows down a guy coming out. He falls to his knees in the first stall, a flood of bile and fries and Coke gushes hot and burning from his mouth and nose. Before he can take a breath, his stomach clenches again and again. Tears stream from his eyes, and he almost sobs when he’s able to catch his breath.

He leans on the porcelain, coughs, spits into the toilet before reaching up and flushing. He tears off a wad of toilet paper and blows his nose. Spits again.

Jenny. Jenny is a whore, a doormat, an object of lust, nothing but a receptacle for Jeff’s come, a sex toy. He’s not Jenny. He’s not.

He’s waits to see if his stomach is finished turning itself inside out. He dreads emerging from the restroom, hopes that the little group has left or at least beaten Chad to a pulp.

He’s about to stand when a voice says, “You okay? Jensen?” There’s a familiar twang to the voice, although he hasn’t heard it often. Chris, the quiet, blue-eyed one.

“Yeah,” he rises on shaking legs and goes to the sink. Rinses out his mouth and splashes cold water on his face. “Musta been something I ate,” he says, hoping Chris will let it drop.

“Usually something I drank when that happens,” Chris replies with a chuckle. He picks Jensen’s backpack up off the floor and hands it to him.

“Thanks,” Jensen says.

“No problem.” Chris exits the restroom ahead of him and turns in the direction of the Quad. “I’m headed out. Can’t take any more Chad tonight. How about you?”

“Is he always such a dick?” They weave their way between groups of students outside the bookstore and McDonald’s. Jensen’s legs still feel a little weak, and his hands are shaking. Jenny is there just under the surface threatening to pull him under.

“Pretty much,” Chris grins. “Nah, he’s not a bad guy. Just no filter on his mouth, you know. He really didn’t mean anything by it. He’s just socially disabled.” Chris shrugs. “No, I meant, you headed home too?”

“Yeah,” Jensen says. “Need to study for Psych. Got a quiz in the morning.”

“How is it?” Chris asks as they turn right and head across the Quad. It’s dusk. The sky is a deep velvety blue and the old-fashioned street lights dotting the Quad drop yellowish pools of light along the sidewalk. “Psych, I mean. I’m taking it next semester.”

“Ah, probably depends on the prof,” Jensen says. “I have Dr. Jager. Ugh, we’re using the manuscript version of the text book he’s written. What huge fucking ego. The material isn’t hard though.” He doesn’t think Chris is intentionally taking his mind off what just happened at the student lounge, but he’s grateful for the distraction anyway.

“Yeah,” Chris says. “Interesting?”

Jensen shrugs. “I suppose it is. Not really helping me much though.”

Helping?

Jensen feels his cheeks heat up and hopes Chris can’t see it. “I have issues,” he says.

“Everyone has issues, man,” Chris says.

Jensen side-eyes him to see if he’s serious. He appears to be. “Yeah, maybe,” he replies quietly.

The walk in silence for a moment before Chris says, “I think we may be more alike than you think.”

Jensen turns and gives Chris a stare. The guy has no idea what he’s saying. He doesn’t know Jensen at all. “Seriously?”

Chris smirks. “I know it might be hard to believe since I’m so openly gregarious.”

Jensen laughs at that, remembers the crossed arms and speculative observation earlier. Chris laughs too.

“I just mean, me and you, we both have walls, don’t we?” Chris asks. Light catches in his blue eyes for a just a moment, and they can see right through Jensen. He realizes that this is a pivotal moment. Takes a deep breath.

“Yeah, I guess we do,” he says with a nod.

Chris nods too. They’re at the southern edge of the Quad, and Chris stops, tips his head to the left. “I’m going this way. See you in class, Jensen.”

“Yeah, see ya, Chris.” He wants to thank him, but thinks that would be awkward if Chris asked why. So he just turns right and heads for home.

###

It isn’t like he doesn’t masturbate. Of course, he does. He still has hormones, but it tends to be quick, mechanical, stroking his cock while standing in the shower or lying in bed with a box of tissues on the nightstand or at his desk looking at internet porn.

He sets the laptop on the nightstand. He already has a porn file open, and he puts in earbuds, clicks to start the video. The moans and gasps pour into his ears. He lays down on the towel he’d already spread across the futon and pours a little lube in his right hand, slicks it up the length of his cock. The sounds filling his head already have his cock plumping. He tugs firmly, strokes until it is hard.

He stops jacking long enough to cover the fingers of his left hand in lube. He’s only tried assplay a couple of time, and it had ended badly. It started out good, but the sensations brought back memories and Jeff’s training whenever he stimulated his prostate – Jenny wasn’t allowed a hard on without permission.

Jensen knew that if Jeff could train that into him, there had to be a way to retrain himself, to give himself permission to enjoy his body on his own terms. His fingers trace the ruffled edges of his hole. He washed it every day, so it was familiar to him even if he hated it. He pushes into himself, feeling the tight rings of muscle around his finger. He keeps stroking his cock, and his ass tries to push down onto his finger. He’s surprised by how badly he wants two or three fingers in there, how he wants to feel full and deep.

The sounds of moans and need flood from the earbuds and distract his mind from memories he doesn’t want and ratchet up the arousal. He pushes a second finger in, crooks them both, rubs over the soft swell of his prostate. Almost immediately, his cock starts to soften, but he eases his fingers back a little and a moaned _ah, fuck me_ in his ear gets it hard again.

He continues stroking, and as the tension builds in his groin, his balls full and tight, he rubs more steadily over his prostate, alternating firm pressure with light swipes, until his thigh muscles are shaking as he digs his heels into the mattress. There’s a cry in his ear as one of the guys on the laptop comes. _Fuck, yeah, yeah, harder, fuck,_ the guy cries out, and Jensen’s prostate becomes a hard little stone under his fingers. His balls draw up hard, come spills onto his hand and shoots across his chest as he doubles up with the intensity of his orgasm.

He strokes himself through it, and flops back onto the futon. He’s panting and laughs out loud. His fingers are stiff where they’re still shoved up his ass. He lets them slide free with a squelch.

He’s covered in cooling jizz and lube, and it ought to feel gross. It doesn’t. It feels kind of awesome.

###

“So how are things going,” Forrester asks.

“Good,” Jensen says. “Grades are good. I’m in a study group now.” He thinks of the half-dozen times he’s gotten together with the group from Lit, including the chastened Chad.

“Are you? That’s great.” Forrester takes off his glasses and polishes them with his hankie. “Friends?”

“Friends?” Jensen asks. “Um, yeah, I guess so. One of them. Yeah, he’s pretty cool. Chris.”

“More than friends?”

Jensen laughs. “No, Chris is straight. Just friends. I’m not really interested in more than that right now anyway, you know?”

“Why’s that?” Forrester asks.

Jensen really hates those kinds of questions. He’s been seeing Forrester for over a year, and the guy knows why. He just likes for Jensen to articulate it for him.

“You know why,” he says. “I have a lot of shit to work through. No, I’m not just hiding from relationships,” he says anticipating the doctor’s thought process. “There are things I need to understand and deal with instead of dumping it on anyone else. I can’t expect other people to fix me.”

Forrester nods. “Like what?”

Jensen looks down at his hands. “Jeff, um, he conditioned me to respond in certain ways … sexually. He … I have to figure out what is me, naturally me, and what is his conditioning. Maybe, I’ll never know for sure. Maybe, I can’t change all of it, but I need to try to understand it, work through it out, you know?”

“There are therapists who deal specifically with those kinds of sexual issues if you don’t feel comfortable talking to me about it,” Forrester says. “Or if you don’t think I’m qualified.”

“It isn’t that, but I’ll keep it in mind,” he says. “You know what I really need? I need a reconstructive surgeon. The proctologist I first saw said that there’s nothing functionally wrong with me. I guess, that’s true, but I don’t like the way I, um, the way I look.”

Forrester nods. “I’ll see what I can find out.”

“Thanks.”

###

Chris eyes the guy at the bar next to Jensen. “You sure?”

“Yeah,” he says. “I’m fine. Just going to have another beer and head home.”

“I can wait,” Chris says. “Have another beer.”

Jensen glances at the guy next to him – older, dark haired, hot. He’s been buying Jensen drinks and flirting for the past couple of hours. There’s no way his friends could have missed that. It had pretty clearly put the nail in the coffin lid of Sandy’s hopes. She’d left with Aldis and Chad fifteen minutes ago.

“Nah,” Jensen says. “Thanks anyway, man.”

Chris doesn’t look happy. “Okay, you’re a big a boy.”

“Thanks, dad,” he says.

“Asshole,” Chris says with a punch to Jensen’s shoulder.

“I love you too, man,” Jensen says. Chris pats the same shoulder and disappears into the crowd.

“So,” James says. He cocks a brow at Jensen. “Now that your guard dog has been released from duty … Your place or mine?”

Jensen slides off his stool and heads toward the back of the bar. He’d already checked it out. He knows there’s a storeroom just past the men’s room. There’re cases of beer and liquor stacked back there and a lock on the door. He’s not interested in a relationship with this guy. This is just a test, an experiment. When he gets to the door, James is right behind him. Jensen pulls him inside and locks the door.

“This is how you want it?” James asks as he pulls Jensen against him.

Jensen doesn’t answer. He just leans into a kiss, rubs his crotch against James’s leg, and James breaks the kiss with a dirty chuckle.

“You kids these days,” he says.

“Got a condom?” Jensen asks.

“In a hurry?”

“Yeah,” Jensen says. “I am.”

He is. He’s been masturbating every night to the sounds on his laptop and his fingers up his ass, and he desperately wants a cock instead, wants to feel it, wants to know that Jeff doesn’t control him anymore.

“Yeah, I do,” James says.

“Good,” Jensen pulls away and opens his fly as he turns around, pushes his jeans and shorts to his ankles, and bends over with his arms resting on cases of liquor stacked to waist height.

The only light in the room is through a frosted glass panel in the top half of the door. It’s too dim for James to see his ass, to know that there’s anything different about him. Still, he’s tense until he hears the sound of the condom packet tearing and then another of lube. There’s a hand on his hip and the nudge of James’s cock head against his entrance. He exhales and wills himself to relax.

James groans as he pushes forward and Jensen pushes back. He reaches around and grabs James’s hip and pulls them together.

“Toppy little bottom, aren’t you?” James says.

“Yeah,” Jensen says. “Fuck yeah. Move.”

James pulls out, grabs both of Jensen’s hips and sinks back in fast and hard. The head of his cock nails Jensen’s prostate, and Jensen gasps, shudders, but instead of losing his hard on, precome spurts from the slit.

“More,” he groans.

James thrusts quickly then, slamming in over and over. Jensen reaches down and begins stroking his cock. He swallows his moans as his channel is filled, his balls tighten, and tension pools, anticipation, expectation, and he remembers the feel of his prostate under his own fingers – that hard little lump, there, now. He comes – jizz spewing from his hard, aching, twitching cock all over the liquor boxes. His ass clamps down on James thick flesh.

“Fuck!” James says between clenched teeth. He arches over Jensen’s back, fingers digging into his hips. He presses in deep and rests his forehead against the base of Jensen’s neck.

“My God, you have one fine ass,” he says.

“Mm-hm, if you’re through with it, I’d like it back,” Jensen says.

James chuckles and slips free. and Jensen hears the man’s zipper. He tucks himself back in and zips up.

“So,” James says.

“Yeah,” Jensen replies with his hand on the door knob. Nice meeting you.

“That’s it?”

Jensen shrugs. “Little late to take me to dinner.”

One side of James’s face is lit by the light from the door panel. He raises his eyebrows in surprise. “It might be backward, but why not?”

“No, I’m just not interested in … anything else,” Jensen said. “Not looking for a relationship or even a fuck buddy.”

James looks like he’s been slapped. “Fine,” he says and slips out.

A moment later, Jensen follows him into the hallway, but the man is nowhere to be seen. As Jensen leaves the bar, it’s beginning to mist. The night is cool. He just walks, not headed anywhere in particular. He doesn’t feel good about the liaison, but he doesn’t really feel bad either. He can’t imagine what James expected of a quick fuck in a back room, but he feels damned good about the sex. He’d overcome Jeff’s training and that was a triumph. He’s not sore. In fact, there’s a lingering warmth and tingle in his body.

Still, something is nagging at him. He realizes that he doesn’t really have any experience with dating or actual relationships. Maybe, he’d treated James like a paying customer, a john, or worse like a stud. Not like a social relationship. He’d used him. That was wrong, he supposed.

He found himself down by the river. He followed the brick path along the river walk, past empty park benches gleaming with rain water, through pools of wan light from the old street lamps like the ones on the Quad.

He felt a little bad now for the way he’d treated the guy. James had genuinely been nice to him, but he still didn’t trust his own instincts when it came to judging others. He wondered if he’d been shitty out of fear of letting the older man get too close. He sighed and wondered if he’d ever figure this stuff out. There were times that he was sure that he was just too fucking damaged to ever be close to anyone. He knew that his past was something that he could never be honest about, never reveal to anyone he was intimate with.

Forrester had given him the names of a couple plastic surgeons who could do reconstructive surgery, but the cost was astronomical. Maybe not astronomical, but far beyond the ability of college student who worked at a bookstore part time to pay. And that as much as than anything else, the physical proof of Jeff’s hold over him, prevented real intimacy. Sure, there might be guys who would be turned on by it – guys like Jeff who had been so diligent, so persistent, so patient in the way he’d changed Jensen, the way he’d turned him into Jenny. He rarely thought of that day when he’d finally challenged Jeff’s use of the term pussy. It still left him feeling hollowed out.

Much as he might intellectualize it and tell himself that what Jeff got off on wasn’t making him feminine but controlling and destroying him, he can’t help but feel emasculated. It makes him want to get drunk and start fights. He imagines holding Jeff down and fucking him bloody. He hates it. Hates how helpless and angry and violent it makes him feel.

The wind hits him in the face as he walks onto the bridge. It cools the tears on his cheeks until they feel icy. It’s late, and only occasionally does he hear the sound of a car’s tires shushing on the wet pavement.

The lights of the city lay down both banks of the river when he stops halfway across and leans on the railing. The sleeves of his jacket are soon soaked through by it. He looks down into the darkness between the two paths of lights. This can stop now. He can quit fighting and give in.

That’s what he’s always done. Give in. Or runaway. Fighting is hard, and he’s tired and lonely.

He thinks of Jared. He doesn’t know why at that moment he’d think of the cop with the warm eyes and smile like sunshine. He remembers the heat of Jared’s knee pressed against his thigh as he handed him the cup of coffee that morning in his apartment. The tears in his eyes as he’d taken the leather hood off at the club. _It’s going to be okay now._

It isn’t. It might not ever be okay. But Jared had helped, hadn’t he?

Jensen takes his wallet from his back pocket and pulls out the blue Post-It. One corner had torn off at some point and there is a crease through it. His cell phone is hard lump against his thigh in his front jean’s pocket. It isn’t the first time he’s taken it out like this. He has a rule.

“You can’t give in without calling him first,” he says.

The sound of his own voice makes him look around, and just then, a police cruiser pulls up to the curb behind him. The passenger window slides down, and the officer inside shines a flashlight at him.

“Everything okay?” the cop asks. There’s a hint of Spanish accent.

“Yeah, just out for a walk,” Jensen says.

“Awful cold and wet night for it,” the cop replies.

Jensen slips the paper back in his wallet and it into his pocket. “Yeah,” he agrees. “I’m going to head home.”

“Good idea,” the cop says. “Take shower. Drink something hot. You could get hypothermia, you know.”

“Yeah, thanks,” Jensen says and begins to walk back in the direction the cruiser had come from. He glances back and the cruiser is still sitting on the bridge.

He jams his hands into his jacket pockets, feeling the cold for the first time. He shivers. The cop was right, he could get hypothermia. He huffs out a laugh at that – almost killed himself and he’s worried about dying.

When he reaches the bottom of the bridge and turns onto Second Street, he sees the police cruiser come back over the bridge and turn past him. The cop waves, and Jensen raises his hand in response.

He wonders if Jared knows this cop. Wonders where Jared is.

 


	5. Chapter 5

“So’d you go home with that guy last night,” Chris asks.

Jensen side-eyes him, but Chris is looking straight ahead as they cross the Quad toward the humanities building. He’s squinting against the morning sun, his expression unreadable.

“No,” Jensen says. It’s damp, slightly cool, moving into fall.

“But you are gay, right? Or bi or whatever,” Chris glances over at him then. “You were flirting with him.”

“Yeah, I am,” he answers. “Is that a problem?”

“No, not for me,” Chris says, “but I think Sandy was disappointed.”

“It’s not like I’ve led her on,” Jensen says.

“No, I know,” Chris says. “You’re just ...”

“What?” Jensen stops short and turns toward the shorter man.

“Private?” Chris says. “Secretive?” Chris’s eyes are still narrowed, expression somewhere between accusative and amused, and it makes Jensen a little nervous, a little angry.

“What is this?” Jensen asks, trying to make is sound like a joke. “You want a confession?” He’s tempted to end this here and now -- tell Chris the whole story about James. “Caring and sharing?”

Chris laughs and starts walking toward class again. “No, man, we’re not chicks. I mean, you’re not that gay. You’re just ...” He shrugs. “I don’t know; you don’t talk about yourself at all. I don’t know anything about you -- your family, nothing. It’s kind of strange.”

“So you want me to be more like Chad,” Jensen says.

“No! Fuck no! I like you just the way you are,” Chris laughs.

“Thought so,” Jensen says with a smile. He follows Chris up the steps of the humanities building, the smile fading.  

###

Jensen runs his thumbnail along the raised green stripe of the chair’s upholstery. “I let a guy fuck me in the storage room of a bar the other night,” he says.

Forrester peers over the top of his glasses at him. “Did you?”

Jensen is amazed at the control the doctor has over his expressions. He acts like Jensen just said he’d had tea instead of coffee that morning.

Jensen shakes his head. “No, that’s a lie. I didn’t let him. I planned it.”

Forrester almost looks surprised. “Why?”

“I needed to know if I could be in control,” he says.

“Were you?”

“Yeah,” Jensen says. “I was.”

Was he a friend?

“No, just a guy.”

“How do you feel about it now?”

Jensen shakes his head. “I treated him kind of shitty, and he was a nice guy. I guess, he was. He seemed to be. I don’t know … Jeff seemed nice. He said he cared about me. So … I’m not a good judge.”

“Jeff isn’t everyone.”

“My dad and mom ‘cared,’” Jensen said with narrowed eyes. “Noah … none of them asked what I wanted.”

Forrester nodded. “You can’t think of anyone you’ve been right about?”

“There’s someone,” Jensen says. He picks at the frayed knee of his jeans. “I want to believe in him. Sometimes, it’s the only thing that keeps … But I don’t trust myself, and if I’m wrong about him, I’d never trust myself again or anyone. I don’t know how I’d …”

“How you’d what, Jensen?” Forrester takes his glasses off and leans forward.

Jensen’s eyes are burning. “I don’t know how I’d keep going.” He looks away and chews on his thumbnail. He’s not about to tell Forrester that he thought about jumping. He’s never told him about the other times, and he’s not going to start now. He knows that he could be locked up if Forrester thinks he’s a danger to himself. He isn’t – not as long as he has his rule because he won’t call Jared.

“Jensen?”

“He knows the worst things about me, but he still seemed to care,” he says, and drops his hand to the arm of the chair.

“Then perhaps you’re right about him,” Forrester says.

“Maybe.”

###

Jensen steps over the golden retriever lying in the doorway of the bookstore, and it’s tail thumps on the floor. It doesn’t raise its head until he bends over to scratch at its ear.

“Hey, Bo, how’s it going, buddy?” he asks.

“Hey, Jensen, how’s it going?” the owner, Paul, asks. He stands and stretches his back. He’s wearing gray work pants, a plaid shirt, and navy cardigan. A dull-blonde ponytail hangs down his back.

“Fine,” he answers and sets his lunch sack on the old wood desk that doubles as a counter.

“You’re a little early,” Paul says. He pushes his horn-rimmed glasses up his nose.

“Psych was canceled,” Jensen says. “Figured I’d just eat lunch here.”

“That works out great actually,” Paul says, jingling his keys in his pocket. “I need to run to Milford. There’s a big estate auction, and the guy had a shitload of books. Mind if Bo hangs with you until I get back?”

“No problem,” Jensen says with a grin. “We’re buds.”

“Yeah,” Paul says. “But don’t feed him half your lunch, all right? He’s on a diet. Vet’s orders.” Bo’s eyes are tracking the conversation from Paul to Jensen and back again.

“Yeah, okay,” he says and gives the dog a wink.

“I mean it,” Paul says with a chuckle. “I’m gonna weigh him when I get back.” He stoops and rubs the dog’s head as he heads out the door. “See ya later, big guy.”

“See ya!” Jensen says with a smirk.

He hears Paul’s laugh drift back in the door. “I was talking to the dog!”

“Yeah, I know,” Jensen mumbles and rolls his eyes. Bo looks up expectantly, watches Jensen’s hands as he tears open the snack bag of Ruffles. The dog’s eyelids twitch and he licks his chops. “Sorry, dude, I’ve got orders.”

Bo stands and walks around the desk, sits.

“No,” Jensen says and takes a bite of his sandwich.

The dog wiggles but doesn’t leave the sit position.

“Stop looking at me,” Jensen says. He turns slightly away, refuses to look at the dog.

From the corner of his eye, Jensen sees the dog lift a paw and then place it back on the floor. Jensen looks over. Big, brown eyes plead for a just one chip. Jensen’s resolve crumbles, and he tosses a chip in a perfect arc. Bo nabs it out of the air and crunches happily.

“Shit, man, you’re going to get me fired,” he says, but he can’t help smiling. “Stupid dog.”

He opens his Logic text book and tosses another chip toward the golden retriever as the bell over the door dings. He says ‘hello’ to the customer and settles back in the creaky old office chair.

###

The guy is pounding into him, hitting his prostrate and lighting him up like the Fourth of July when the banging starts on the storeroom door. The guy’s movements falter.

“Don’t stop,” Jensen says. He’s right there on the edge, balls tight, cock drooling.

“But ...”

“Just hurry,” Jensen says, and the guy, Brad, starts to move again. That’s it, all it takes, the tension snaps. Jensen groans and comes into the wad of tissues he’s holding over the head of his dick.

“Hey!” there’s a shout from the hallway and a silhouette on the frosted window. More banging on the door.

Brad’s dick is going soft. Jensen isn’t sure he if the guy got off, but he pulls out and steps away. “Shit,” he mumbles.

Jensen huffs in annoyance and pulls up his jeans. He’s still hard, and it’s uncomfortable tucking in and zipping his pants.

“Come on outta there!” the voice in the hallway shouts.

Jensen shrugs, and Brad opens the door. “Sorry,” Brad says to the bouncer – Derek, a tall guy with long hair and red beard.

“Get the fuck out of here,” Derek says and Brad heads for the barroom. “You,” he grabs Jensen’s arm, “I knew you were trouble. What the fuck kind of bar do you think this is? Huh?” He shoves Jensen toward the back door.

“Is that a rhetorical question?” Jensen says.

Derek kind of growls the way big, angry dudes do. He’s really not a bad guy. Jensen had talked to him at the door a few times, months ago, when he first started frequenting the place. Lately, Derek’s been giving him the stink eye.

Derek grabs his arm, fingers bruising, and leans into Jensen’s space. His voice is low, intimate, when he asks, “Do you have even a shred of self respect?”

The question is like a gut punch, and it’s Jensen’s turn to growl, Fuck you.

Derek throws him against the backdoor of the bar and it pops open under his weight. He stumbles into the alley, almost goes down but catches himself against the side of a dumpster.

“Don’t let me catch you in here again!” Derek yells. “Fuckin’ hustler.”

“I’m not a hustler!” Jensen shouts back. “I don’t hook.”

The door slams shut leaving him alone in the alley.

“Anymore.” He starts walking toward the light of the street. “I give it away now,” he mumbles. He wishes he were a little drunker. He feels hollow. If he were drunk, it might be funny. James had been an experiment that he’d counted as successful, and then there’d been Mike just to be sure that James hadn’t been a fluke.

He hadn’t told Forrester about Mike or Andy or ... the guy with the British accent or the others. He wouldn’t tell him about tonight. He wouldn’t tell him how it felt, the rush he got from enticing guys into sex, the incredible rush of power and pleasure he got from the sex, and then walking away.

He pace falters the closer he gets to the street lights. He steps in a puddle hidden by the shadows and foul water seeps into his sneaker.

Walking away. The inevitable slow sink into this void. He hadn’t even gotten the high tonight. They thought he was a hustler. He’s not. He’s just a slut. He might have been in control with James, but he isn’t anymore. He knows that. Has known it for awhile. He’s a junkie living from high to high.

He stops and leans against the brick wall next to the backdoor of a shop. To his right are the bright lights of the street and to his left, the dark depths of the alley. He pushes his hand down into his left hip pocket, feels the handle of the buck knife, blade folded harmlessly inside. This could end here, he thinks. It should. There’s no one who would really care. His family gave up a long time ago. Forrester might feel a sense of professional failure, but Jensen is just another patient. One of many. Chris ... they weren’t that close. The others ... No, Jensen has kept himself apart. Maybe this is why. So when it comes time to check out, he can do it without hurting too many people.

He crouches down with his back to the wall. Rubs his hands over his face. The faded blue Post-It is still in his wallet. He doesn’t need it. He programmed the number into his phone on a good day. This isn’t a good day. He knows this is why he did it. He wants like hell to ignore his rule. He wants to go into the dark and take out the knife and curl up with the rest of the filth where the light doesn’t shine and never come out. He wants to disappear. Cease to be.

He fumbles his phone out of his pocket, clenches it in his hands but doesn’t flip it open, curls in on himself and rocks back and forth. Tears don’t come this time. Instead, the tension winds tighter, the hollowness pulls him in until he feels as though he’s collapsing in on himself.

Forehead on his knees, he opens his eyes and flips open the phone in his lap. Thumbs through the handful of numbers and clicks on Jared’s name. Jensen’s breathing is fast and shallow. He feels lightheaded.

The phone only rings once. Answered by someone used to waking up quickly, immediately alert. “Hello?”

Jensen doesn’t speak. He can’t. He’s frozen.

“Who is this?” the voice is warm, inquisitive.

Jensen feels the tears trying to come, and his throat is tight. He sniffs. Jared?

Yes, who is this?

Jensen thinks he hears concern. Remembers that night when Jared asked him not to leave, the look in his eyes.

“Hey, talk to me,” Jared says. “You need help? Tell me who you are. Where.”

Jensen sobs.

“Hey, you called for my help, right? Talk to me,” Jared urges.

“I can’t.”

“Jensen?”

He jerks the phone away from his ear and flips it closed, he drags air into his raw throat, sobs. When the phone rings, he stares at the display – Jared – for a moment before turning it off, and the dam breaks. He falls apart.

It will be more than hour before he rises stiffly and stumbles to the end of the alley. His head hurts and his eyes are swollen, filthy water squelches in his sneakers, and he smells like a sewer as he makes his way home.

He lets himself into the vestibule of his building followed by his neighbor Tina who is wearing white go-go boots and a long blonde wig. She was probably pretty eight hours ago, but now her make-up is smeared and her five o’clock shadow is showing. It’s nearly morning and her work day is over.

She gets a whiff of Jensen and backs up. Looks him over. “You get mugged or something, honey?” she asks in a soft tenor.

“Something like that,” Jensen says as they enter the elevator.

“You okay?” she asks.

“Yeah,” he says.

“No, you aren’t,” she says. The elevator doors slide open, and she takes his arm, steers him to her door. “You need a drink or a cup of coffee.”

“Tina ...” he says and tries half-heartedly to move away.

“A sympathetic ear, a broad shoulder,” she says as she pushes the door open and guides him inside. “Wait here,” she says and wanders away. The room is lovely – potted plants and art on the walls. A colorful rug under the coffee table piled with books and candles and pretty objects. “Take off those filthy things,” she says when she returns. She’s holding a silk robe in emerald green with Chinese fans printed all over it. “Don’t worry, sweetie. If it fits me, it’ll fit you.”

She breezes into the kitchen area. “Go on, baby. Don’t be shy,” she says. “I’m not looking.”

Jensen kicks off his wet sneakers and peels off his shirt and jeans and socks and drops  them to the floor. He’s thankful she has hardwood instead of carpet. Maybe, he should ask for a trash bag to put his clothes in. His boxers seem to be unsoiled so he leaves them on and puts on the silky robe just as she returns with two glasses of white wine.

“Doesn’t that color make your eyes look even prettier,” she says. She places a manicured hand on his cheek, and her delicately arched brows knit. “Sit down, baby. Tell me what happened.”

Jensen sits on her pretty cream-colored sofa and takes a sip of wine. He feels a little like he’s fallen down the rabbit hole. They’ve never said more than ten words to one another in the months he’s lived there, but he knows what she does for a living. He used to do it too. He’s not judging. He was accused of it that very night.

“So?” she prompts.

“What happened?” he says. “Life.”

She nods as though she understands. “You’re college student, right?”

He takes another sip of wine. “I haven’t always been.”

“What were you?” She sips wine, watches him over the edge of her glass. Her eyes are dark, interested.

“I was on the street.”

She doesn’t look surprised. “How old were you?”

“Sixteen.”

She nods. “I was seventeen. How’d you get off the street?”

“A man,” Jensen says and drains his glass. “I thought he cared about me.”

She gets up and goes to the kitchen, comes back with a bottle of whiskey, splashes some into his wine glass. “He didn’t?” she asks.

“No, he tried to change me, make me ...” He shakes his head and takes a sip of whiskey. He isn’t used to liquor, and it burns. His throat tries to reject it. “He just wanted a sex toy.”

“Men are such pigs,” she says sympathetically.

He huffs out a laugh. “Yeah, well, I’ve only recently started having sex again, and I’ve been the pig.”

She narrows her eyes. “Trying to keep them at arm’s length?” she asks.

“You’re shrewd,” he says, drains his glass and doesn’t choke. “Better than my therapist.”

She rolls her eyes. “Uh! Are they a waste of money or what?  “

“I don’t know,” he says. “Yeah, maybe.” He thinks of the alley, the dark, the knife. “You may be right because ...”

“Because what, baby?” She reaches across the sofa and takes his hand.

“I almost killed myself tonight.”

Her hand tightens on his, and her mouth forms an O but no sound comes out. He looks away. He’s afraid she’ll cry. “But you didn’t.”

“No.”

“Because …” She still grips his hand.

“Because of another man. A cop I’ve met a couple of times,” he says. “He saw me at my worst, and he … I think he cared.”

She nods and refills his glass and pours herself some.

“I have this rule, I can’t off myself without calling him first,” he says and takes a drink. This whiskey, he decides, isn’t half bad. He’s starting to feel relaxed and really warm.

“And he talks you out of it.”

“No, I’ve never called before tonight,” he says. He takes another drink. “I only said two or three words, and he knew who it was. He … It’s been over a year, but he knew it was me.”

“So he does care,” she says.

“Yeah, I guess so.” He swipes a tear from his cheek.

“He sounds nice, even if he is a cop,” she says with a smile.

“He’s beautiful,” Jensen says.

Her eyebrows rise. “Oh, it’s like that?”

“I know, it’s ridiculous,” Jensen says. His cheeks are on fire, but it’s just the whiskey. “I mean he’s a cop, right?”

“Tell me about him,” Tina says. She wiggles closer and pours herself some whiskey.

“He’s really tall,” Jensen says.

“Taller than you or me?” she asks with a grin.

“Yeah, and built, gorgeous. Dark hair and brilliant smile and eyes …”

“What color?”

He shakes his head. “I don’t know, blue and gold and brown … depends on the light, but it isn’t just that. It’s …”

“What?”

“The way he looks at me. Like he really sees me and what he sees is good.” Jensen bites his lip.

“Oh honey, you got it bad for this guy,” she says and pats his hand.

He lets out a rueful chuckle. “Yeah.”

“What did you say to him?”

“I hung up.”

“Why?”

“Because I’m afraid,” he says.

“But, baby, he cares about you, you said so.”

“He probably cares about stray dogs too. He’s that kind of guy.”

“What if you’re wrong?” She pushes a loose strand of platinum hair behind her ear.

“What if I’m right?”

“What if you are?” She sounds kind of angry. “You almost killed yourself tonight. What do you have to lose?”

He knows she’s right. He has nothing to lose. “Why would he want me?”

“I don’t know,” she says. “Because you’re beautiful and smart. I bet you get all As in college.”

He shakes his head. “Tina, you don’t understand. I’m broken.”

She lays her big, warm hand against his cheek. Brushes away a tear. “I don’t think so, baby.” Her eyes glisten. “A little bent maybe, but you’re strong. You’re not broken. If you were, you wouldn’t be here.”

She slides across the sofa and puts her arms around him, and he tenses for a moment before giving in and laying his head on her shoulder. She strokes his hair. “Things aren’t getting better as they are, are they?” she asks.

Jensen sniffs and presses his face against her neck. She smells like face powder, White Shoulders and sweat, earthy and masculine. “No,” he admits.

“Then you can’t go on as you are, sweetheart,” she says. “Talk to him.” She puts her hands on his shoulders and pushes him away, holds him at arms’ length as she searches his face. “Imagine how he would feel if you hurt yourself without giving him a chance. You said he helped you before.”

“I don’t want him to do it out of obligation,” he says.

Her lips compress into a flat line.

“Give. Him. A Chance,” she repeats. “You aren’t being fair to him.” She sighs. “Honey, we’ve all been treated like shit. You aren’t unique in that. I know, believe me, I know how hard it is to trust people when you’ve been used, when you’ve been hurt. Pushing people away is a defense mechanism, but you aren’t protecting yourself anymore – not when you push away those who really want to help.”

He nods. “I know.”

She takes his face in her hands, makes him look up. “So will you talk to him?”

He doesn’t want to lie to her. He doesn’t know what to say, sucks his lips between his teeth.

“Sweetheart?”

“I’ll try,” he says. “I ... want to.”

“Then do it,” she says firmly.

“Yeah,” he says. “I should go home. I’ve got classes in the morning, today, in a few hours.”

They start to rise from the sofa and Jensen sways. He’s not sure how much whiskey he drank but enough apparently. She laughs and catches his arm.

“Whoa,” she says and steers him toward the door. She snags his jeans and pulls his keys from the front pocket. “I think I better take you home and tuck you in.”

“You don’t need to do that,” he says and takes the keys from her. “I’ve been drunk before.”

Tina puts and arm around him as they walk into the hallway. “Just let me be your big sister.”

“I don’t have a big sister,” he protests as tries to fumble his key into the lock.

She takes the key and unlocks his door. “You do tonight, honey.”

###

“Jensen, it’s Jared. I ... I know you wouldn’t be calling me if everything were okay, so give me a call back if you need anything. Okay? Bye.” Jensen hits delete.

“Jensen, this is Regina from Dr. Forrester’s office. Please, give me a call back to reschedule your appointment. The number is 555 ...” Delete.

“Jensen, it’s Jared again. Look, I really wish you would call me. I ... I’m worried about you, so just, please call me and let me know you’re okay or not. Just, please, call.”

Jensen’s thumb hovers over the delete button. He presses ‘save’ and tosses the phone onto the floor next to the futon. He isn’t sure when he’d turned his phone back on or maybe he hadn’t. He vaguely recalls Tina messing with his phone after she’d brought him home.

He’d missed morning classes, and he’d already called Paul and told him he was sick. He is clearly not going any damn place.

He pulls the blankets tighter around himself and curls into a ball. Whatever hangover he’d had from Tina’s whiskey was pretty much gone. He thinks the lingering headache is more a result of not having eaten in close to 24 hours. He doesn’t feel hungry. He’s gone beyond hunger to nausea.

His hand snakes out from under the covers and searches for his phone. He flips it open and goes to messages.

“Jensen, it’s Jared again. Look, I _really_ wish you would call me. I ... I’m worried about you, so ... just, please call me and let me know you’re okay ... or not. Just, _please call_.”

He listens again and flips the phone shut. Maybe Tina is right. Maybe Jared is what he seems. But it doesn’t change what Jensen is. Fucked up. A fucking mess.

He thinks of his recent hook ups and the way he’s been treating the guys he meets. He flops over onto his back. He’s gone from doormat to asshole in less than two years. Awesome.

He ought to call Forrester’s office. Maybe he should call Jared, but he sure that he won’t do either of those today. He’s pretty sure he’ll only get out of bed to piss and scrounge up food if the nausea goes away.

He rolls back into a ball and tries to let his thoughts drift. Maybe sleep some more. There’s a knock at the door. He doesn’t move. He lies still, listening. Probably Tina. Another knock. If he ignores it, she’ll think he’s gone out.

His phone rings in his clenched hand. Jared. He doesn’t answer. Just stares at it until it stops. He lets out the breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding.

The knock comes at the door again. And again, louder.

The phone rings twice. Stops. Chimes. He looks down at the text message from Jared. _I can hear your phone ringing. Answer the door or I’ll break it down._

His heart slams in his chest as he stares at the door. It can’t be. He can’t be right there on the other side of the door. He’s paralyzed even as the knock comes again.

The phone chimes. _Open the fucking door. Now!_

He scrambles out of bed and crosses the small room. He flicks off the deadbolt and pulls back the latch. The moment the latch is released, there’s pressure from outside. It swings open and Jared’s filling the doorway. He sags with relief.

“You’re okay,” he says.

Jensen just shakes his head.

“But you’re alive,” Jared says. He looks angry and hurt.

Jensen nods. “Thank you.”

“For what?” Jared’s multi-hued eyes search his face.

“Because I’m alive. I guess.”

Jared blows out a breath. “Can I come in?”

Jensen back up and nearly trips over the pile of stinking clothes and sneakers he’d worn the night before. He realizes he’s wearing just boxers and feels a flush climbing the back of his neck.  He turns away, looking for something to put on. The green silk robe is lying next to the futon, and he pulls it on.

He feels shy under Jared’s gaze as he turns around. “My neighbor loaned it to me,” he says.

Jared just nods and looks around. The room is dark and the air is stale, smells slightly of the alley. He walks to the window and opens the blind and pushes the sash up a few inches. Late afternoon light floods in revealing piles of laundry, dirty dishes, and the unmade bed. Jensen is slightly surprised and embarrassed. He’s fairly neat by nature. He remembers Jared’s apartment where the disarray was comfortable and lived in. His own place looks like the den of a dying animal.

Jared’s brows are drawn together, and he lifts his hands as though he’s about to touch Jensen; then drops them to his sides.

“Are you hungry?”

Jensen starts to say no, but realizes that it feels as though his stomach is trying to eat itself. He nods.

“I don’t suppose you have anything to eat here, do you?” Jared goes to the refrigerator and looks inside. He takes out a package of sliced turkey and checks the date, sets it on the counter along with sliced cheese, mayonnaise and bread. He searches for plates and starts making sandwiches.

“Sit down,” he says, and it’s not a suggestion. Jensen sinks down onto the wobbly chair and opens the Coke Jared sets in front of him. Jared puts the sandwiches on the table and sits down across from him. He’s wearing a navy blazer, white dress shirt, blue and gray striped tie. There’s the slight bulge of his sidearm under his jacket.

“Are you on duty?” Jensen asks. He takes a bite of sandwich without really tasting it.

“Yeah,” Jared says. “I’m investigating a possible a possible assault or suicide.” He sounds angry again, and Jensen can’t meet his eye.

“How’d you find me?” he asks.

“I’m a cop,” Jared said. “It’s what I do.”

“Oh,” Jensen said. He was having trouble swallowing. He set his sandwich down. “You didn’t have to.”

Jared sighed. “Jensen, you called me at 2 a.m. I figured you wouldn’t do that if you weren’t in trouble of some kind. I was worried.”

“Why?”

The hurt expression on Jared’s face makes Jensen’s chest ache. “Why would you ask that? What’s happened to you?”

“I’m fucked up,” he says. “I don’t trust people.”

“Is that why you hung up on me?”

“No,” Jensen says. “No.” He gets up and gets his wallet off the bureau. He opens it as he walks back to the table. Jared’s looking up at him as he pulls the faded blue Post-It from his wallet and offers it to Jared. He takes it between his thumb and index finger and looks at it for what seems a long time.

He tips his head up at Jensen. “This is the note I gave you at my apartment.”

“Yeah, it isn’t that I don’t trust you ... I,” he hesitates. He just said that trust wasn’t the issue. Now he has to prove it. “I have this rule. I can’t check out without calling you.”

Jared’s eyes widen, and he takes a deep breath. “So you were thinking about killing yourself last night,” he says. “You’ve never called before.”

“It’s never gotten that far,” Jensen says. “Usually, I just look at the note ...”

“How many times?” Jared asks. They haven’t moved. Jensen is still standing there with Jared looking up at him.

“A few,” he replies, “but I have a shrink. I have the rule. I’m handling it.”

“Yeah? Does your shrink know about your rule? About how many times you’ve thought about ‘checking out’?” He sounds angry again, furious.

“I can’t go to a mental ward,” Jensen says, and it’s a plea. “I can’t. I’m not crazy.” He backs away.

Jared stands and follows him. “No,” he says, “you aren’t crazy.” He grasps Jensen’s arms, and the heat of his hands bleeds through the silk. “You’re hurt, and you have to let someone help you. Will you? Will you let me help you?”

Jensen is trembling, on the verge of tears. He’s more afraid than he’s ever been.

Jen, Jared says quietly. Jensen remembers that voice from the club, like Jared’s talking to a wounded animal, and maybe he is. “Let me help you. Okay?”

Jensen nods and leans forward. Jared pulls him against his chest. He strokes Jensen’s hair. “It’s going to be different this time, Jen. It’s going to be okay.”

 


	6. Chapter 6

“Do you have any clean clothes?” Jared asks.

Jensen steps back and nods. Jared’s hands are still on his arms. They rub up and down.

“Great, grab some and go take a shower.”

Jensen stares at the floor a moment. It’s strewn with dirty clothes and notes from class, a candy bar wrapper and potato chip bag.

“You don’t have to do this,” Jensen murmurs.

Jared’s hands stop rubbing and grip. “Hey, you just agreed to let me help you,” he says. “It isn’t some obligation. I want to do this, so let me help.”

“It’s just … “

“What? Talk to me.”

Jensen doesn’t lift his head, but looks up through his lashes. “I don’t want to be told what to do.”

A smile creeps across Jared’s face. “Fair enough.” He nods. “You smell like a cesspool. Perhaps you’d like to shower”

Heat crawls up Jensen’s cheeks. “Yeah, I guess I would.”

“Good choice,” Jared says. He’s still smiling when Jensen goes into the bathroom.

The hot water sluicing over him seems to wash away the remainder of the night’s tension and confusion along with the sweat and stink of the alley. He towels off feeling almost human again. Brushing his teeth gets him a step further, and he even takes time to shave before pulling on the only clean pair of jeans he has and a t-shirt.

He emerges in a cloud of steam and is confused all over again. His apartment is relatively clean. Two full trash bags sit beside the door and another is on the futon, which has been stripped of its sheets and folded back into a sofa.

Jared smiles and pulls him into his arms, squeezes the breath from his lungs. Jensen has never been hugged like this, like he’s important, precious, like Jared never wants to let go. It’s overwhelming, bewildering. After a moment, Jensen raises his arms and wraps them around Jared’s waist.

Jared presses his face into Jensen’s damp hair and inhales. “You smell good,” he says. His voice is low and husky. It sends a brush fire over Jensen’s skin. His cock starts to plump, and he thinks he feels Jared’s too before Jared pulls away and scrubs his fingers over Jensen’s scalp.

“Feel better?” Jared asks.

“Yeah,” he says. “I do.”

“Cool.” Jared puts his hands on his hips and looks around the room. “You missed classes today, right?”

“Yeah,” Jensen replies. He feels slightly fidgety with Jared inspecting the room and by extension his life.

“So you need to do homework,” Jared says, “laundry, take out the trash.” It sounds like he’s talking as much to himself as Jensen, like he’s making a list in his head and reciting it out loud. “So, here’s what I’m thinking – We can take the trash out and go over to my place, do your laundry while you study, you can crash on the sofa tonight. How’s that sound? Work for you?”

Of course, that works for him. He just wants to be swept up in the wake of Jared and be pulled along in the bubble of warm, safety that surrounds him. “Sure,” Jensen says.

“Awesome. Why don’t you grab your books and the laundry. I’ll get the trash,” Jared says. “Need anything else?”

“No,” Jensen says as he stuffs his wallet, phone and keys into the pockets of his jeans. He checks his backpack to be sure he has his Lit and Psych books before tossing the strap over his shoulder and grabbing the laundry bag. He follows Jared into the hall and makes sure the apartment door is locked.

They’re halfway to the elevator when the door slides open and Tina steps out. She’s wearing the white go-go boots with a red vinyl mini-skirt, black crop top that shows off her flat midriff and a zebra print coat. Her wig is bright blue, the same color as her eye shadow. Her face lights up when she sees Jensen. Her gaze flicks briefly to Jared.

“Honey,” she purrs and takes Jensen’s face in her hands. “You look so much better this morning.” She kisses his forehead and turns her attention to Jared. “And this must be your big policeman.”

“Yeah, um, Jared, this is my neighbor, Tina,” Jensen says.

“Ma’am,” Jared says with a nod.

“Listen to you, ‘ma’am.’ Your mama raised you right, didn’t she?” she teases.

“I’m going over to Jared’s to do laundry and study and stuff,” Jensen says.

“And stuff, huh?” She cocks an eyebrow at Jensen. She looks back at Jared and winks. “Can’t say I blame you, sweetie. I’d do stuff at Jared’s too.”

Jared smiles, nods a little. “I appreciate the compliment. Ma’am.” He leans forward and says in a conspiratorial whisper, “But I’m not exactly a free agent.”

Her expression goes from flirty to serious and she looks over at Jensen with soft eyes. “Well, you boys have a good time,” she says and continues on to her door. Jensen and Jared are almost to the elevator when she calls out, “Hey, cop! You take good care of my little brother there. Or I’ll come looking for you.”

Jensen draws in a deep breath and sucks his lips between his teeth as Jared drops the trash bags and walks back to her door. He pulls out his cell phone.

“What’s your number?” he asks. He punches it in as she says it, and then her phone rings in her pocket. “There, now you have mine too,” Jared says.

A big, genuine smile breaks across her face then. “Thanks,” she says. “Thank you, honey.”

“You’re welcome,” he says. “We’ll keep in touch. Right, Jen?”

Jensen isn’t sure what’s just happened or what it means, but he nods. The elevator door slides open behind him, and Jared trots down the hall to join him. Jared leans back against the wall as the doors shut, and the car drops with its usual jerk.

“What was that?” Jensen asks.

“What was what?” Jared looks over with a puzzled expression.

“That with you and Tina.”

“She’s your friend, right?” Jared shrugs. “She’s worried about you. I’m thinking that was her robe on your floor?”

“Yeah,” Jensen says. He stares at the toes of his boots. He wonders vaguely if his sneakers are a total loss. “She helped me out last night.”

“You told her about me,” Jared said.

“Yeah,” Jensen says. “I ... yeah.”

“You mind me and her having one another’s phone numbers?”

Jensen isn’t sure how he feels about it. He’s not sure he wants them talking about him, but what it might mean – that they care about him, maybe even that they’d conspire to help him, well, that made him want to lean back into that strong embrace. “No, I don’t mind, I guess.”

Jared nodded. “Cool.”

###

Jared still lives in the same apartment, but the sofa is new – long enough to stretch out on – and there’s a bigger flat screen TV. Jensen sets his backpack on the dining table, and Jared empties his pockets – wallet, phone, keys – lays his handcuffs and sidearm on the counter. He takes a lockbox from the cabinet, spins the combination to open it, puts the Glock in it, and locks it. He replaces the box in the cabinet without so much as glancing at Jensen.

“Go ahead and spread out on the table with your homework,” Jared says. “Get a soda if you want. I’m going to go change.”

“Jared, I thought you said you were on duty today,”” Jensen says.

Yeah, and I told you I was on an investigation,” he says. He shrugs. “I’ll make it okay with my captain. Take a personal day or something. Don’t worry about it.”

“Okay, I just, I wouldn’t want you to get into trouble because of me,” Jensen says.

Jared shakes his head with a smile. “I won’t.” He goes into the bedroom, and Jensen snags a Coke out of the refrigerator before sitting down to study. He’s trying to focus on _Moby Dick_ when he hears Jared come out of the bedroom. There’s a racket coming from the hallway, and he gets up to investigate.

He finds Jared in the bathroom where an open door reveals a closet with a stackable washer-drier. Jensen’s filthy clothes are strewn around on the floor, and Jared is holding his sneakers.

“Where the hell were you last night?” he asks. He’s wearing a grimace, but his tone is playful.

“In an alley.”

Jared’s brows knit. He looks like he’s going to say something, but he huffs out a breath. His eyes become stormy gray, pained, and Jensen hates that he did that. He wants Jared to smile. He needs the sunshine.

“Dumpster diving,” Jensen says with a weak grin.

“Don’t,” Jared says. He drops the sneakers on top of the pile of jeans. “Jesus, Jen, why didn’t you call me before? Why’d you wait so long?”

“I, um, I kind of have issues.”

“You don’t trust me,” Jared says. The statement falls between them as ugly and unpleasant as his sneakers.

“No,” Jensen says. He doesn’t want to say it, but he has to. “No, you’re the only one I trust.”

Jared’s hand comes up as though he’s going to reach for Jensen and pull him in again, but he nods and lets it drop to his side. “Okay, good. I ... good. I’m glad.” He looks down at the laundry piled around him. “You should get back to your homework. I’ll throw a load in the washer.”

Jensen misses the warm touch he’d almost gotten. He feels like they’re balanced on a knife’s edge. He wonders how to tip things in the right direction but is afraid of overbalancing the wrong way.

He just nods and heads back to Ahab and the great white whale.

###

The game is over, and Jared’s beer bottle, his third, sits empty on the coffee table. He’d refused to let Jensen have one. “Dude, I’m a cop. You’re twenty.” Then, he’d laughed at Jensen’s pout. Jensen had dropped his head, turned the pout into something more provocative, fluttered his lashes. Jared had shifted in his seat and taken a focused interest in the game. “Not gonna work,” he’d mumbled. Jensen had grinned to himself.

Jared flicks off the TV, but doesn’t get up. His arm is stretched out along the back of the sofa. Jensen is sure he can feel the heat of it, and he lets his head drop back. Jared’s forearm is in the curve at the base of Jensen’s skull, warm and firm. He lets his eyes drop shut. Jensen feels Jared shift on the sofa, twist toward him.

“Jen,” he says.

Jensen turns his head, opens his eyes, and Jared is right there, so close, Jensen’s eyes widen and his lips part as he draws in a breath. Jared captures Jensen’s lips with his own, soft and gentle at first; then more demanding. His tongue slips out, testing Jensen’s response, exploring, coaxing more from him. Jensen’s hand comes up, fingers curling into the soft hair at the nape of Jared’s neck. He feels himself tipping backward into the corner of the sofa, and Jared follows him, moving over Jensen, pressing him down.

They don’t break the kiss even as they move together – Jensen scooting down and spreading his legs, Jared lying between them. Jensen’s fingers tug at Jared’s hair in a way that seems to make Jared frantic. His hips roll down against Jensen as though he means to make clear how hard and ready his cock is. Jensen feels blood pulse in his straining dick, and his hips try to follow Jared’s in a kind of magnetically charged dance. Jared’s mouth is on his neck, sucking at his pulse.

Jensen gasps, “please.” His fingers dig into Jared’s ribs.

Jared pauses with his face pressed into the curve of Jensen’s neck, but his hips continue to move heedless of his brain. Suddenly, he rises to his hands and knees over Jensen. He’s panting and flushed.

“Please,” Jensen says again.

Jared shakes his head. “This is too fast,” he says. “Too soon.” He pushes himself up and collapses at the end of the sofa. Jensen lies there a moment, chilled and aching for five seconds ago. He takes a deep breath and sits up.

“It isn’t,” Jensen says.

Jared turns toward and throws his arm up along the back of the sofa again. “It is,” he says. “You’re going through a rough time, and I shouldn’t take advantage of that.”

“You aren’t,” Jensen says. “This isn’t new. How I feel. What I want.”

Jared’s hand comes up off the back of the sofa and caresses Jensen’s cheek. He smiles. “I still don’t want to rush it,” he says.

Jensen nods. “Okay, but ...”

“What?”

“Could you ... You know, maybe we could just be close?”

Jared raises his eyebrows. “This isn’t a trick?”

Jensen shakes his head.

Emotions flicker across Jared’s face. “We can totally do that. Come here.”

Jensen is enfolded in strong arms and leans against Jared’s chest, heartbeat in his ear. Jensen thinks that maybe this is all he needs.

###

Jensen isn’t living with Jared except that he kind of is. He’s gone back to his apartment for school books and to pay his utility bills. He goes to class and to work at the bookstore, but eats and showers and does homework and makes out like a teenager with Jared on the sofa where he sleeps. It’s so good and so not enough for either of them. He has every faith that it’s just a matter of time, a matter of the right moment.

And Jensen hasn’t been to therapy. He hasn’t mentioned it, and Jared only asked once. Jensen knows Jared will bring it up again. Later rather than sooner, he hopes. He’d called Forrester’s office after hours and left a message that he’d make an appointment soon. He thought he probably would. Sometime.

Finals are coming up, and he is feeling a little stressed as he lets himself into Jared’s apartment. He dumps his backpack on the sofa. His bedding is folded neatly beneath his pillow at the other end. He tries not to make too much of a mess of Jared’s place; although, Jared’s kind of messy himself and probably wouldn’t complain.

Jensen makes himself a sandwich for lunch and grabs a Coke. It’s kind of lonely eating alone. Jared usually tries to run home at lunch if he knows Jensen will be there, but sometimes he gets tied up with a case. Jensen is halfway through his roast beef on rye with his Lit book propped open next to him when there is a knock at the door.

In the three weeks he’s been there, Jared has never had an unexpected visitor. He’s never had a visitor at all. Jensen goes to the door and finds a middle-aged man in an ill-fitting suit outside. He has dark hair, graying at the temples, a neatly trimmed beard. He looks stressed and mildly surprised.

“Hi, Jared in?” he asks in a gruff voice. His hands are stuffed in his pockets and he leans slightly forward.

“No,” Jensen replies. He holds the door shoulder-width open, and the man is trying to see past him.

The man smiles now. “I’m Jim Beaver,” he says. He holds his hand out. “And you are?”

Jim Beaver, Capt. Beaver, Jared’s boss, Jensen thinks. He shakes Beaver’s hand. “Jensen,” he answers. “Did you try his cell phone?”

“Nah, I know Jared comes home for lunch a lot. I was just trying to catch him,” Beaver says. “Do you think I could come in a wait for a while in case he comes by?” The request sounds so reasonable, and it’s Jared’s boss. How is Jensen supposed to turn down him down? The guy knew it.

“Sure,” Jensen says. He swings the door open and steps back. “Would you like coffee or a Coke?”

“Coffee, if you’ve got some made,” Beaver says and shuts the door. “Don’t want to be a bother.”

“No bother,” Jensen says and gets the coffee out of the cabinet. He glances over his shoulder. Beaver is standing beside the dining table looking around. His gaze stops on the sofa where Jensen’s bedding rests and then moves to the table in front of him. He looks up and catches Jensen watching him.

“ _Moby Dick_ , huh?” Beaver says.

“Yep,” he replies and turns back to the coffee maker.

“Looks like I interrupted your lunch,” Beaver says. He slides onto a barstool at the counter. “Sorry about that.”

“No problem.” Coffee starts running into the pot, and Jensen turns around, leans against the counter. He meets Beaver’s gaze. Jensen hopes that he looks more together than he feels because the half a sandwich is sitting like a lump in his stomach. He wonders what the hell Jared’s boss is doing showing up unannounced in the middle of the day, and he hates the way the guy is looking at him like he’s in a police interrogation.

“So, you staying here with Jared?” Beaver says, and Jensen almost smiles.

“Yeah, my building is being exterminated,” he says. He feels like laughing at the goofy lie. He doesn’t even know why he said it except that he’s a little pissed off at Beaver’s curiosity.

Beaver nods. “Right,” he says. His eyes narrow almost imperceptibly. “So, how do you and Jared know each other?” His expression tells Jensen that not only does Beaver not believe the lie, but he knows something else.

The coffee maker gurgles, and Jensen turns around, fumbles in the cabinet for a mug. He tries to keep his hand steady as he pours and sets the cup in front of Beaver. “Excuse me,” he mumbles and heads for the bathroom.

He leans over the toilet but fights back the urge to be sick. He takes a deep breath and pulls out his cell phone, types a quick text.

_ur boss is here_

_who?_

_Beaver_

_be right there_

Jensen takes another deep breath and contemplates hiding out in the bathroom until Jared gets back. The thought of going out there and facing that man who was probably at the Harness Club that night, who saw him there or at least saw photos of him, makes his stomach turn over again.

He leans over the sink and splashes cold water on his face. He looks up into the mirror, into wide green eyes. They narrow, and he sees anger. “Fuck this,” he says to his reflection.

He walks back into the kitchen and pours himself a cup of coffee before facing Beaver. “You know who I am,” he says.

Beaver straightens on the stool and tips his head. His fingers are still curled around the handle of the mug, but he looks as though he’s forgotten it. He nods. “I’m not judging you, kid,” he says. “I’m just surprised to see you here.”

Jensen bites his lip and shrugs. “Jared’s helped me out a couple of times,” he says.

“He’s that kind of guy,” Beaver says, but it doesn’t look like that’s what he’s thinking. His gaze is assessing. “That can be hard on a cop.”

“What do you mean?”

“Care too much and it can destroy you,” he says. He looks down at the mug as though seeing it for the first time. He takes a sip. “I’m glad to see you doing so well.”

“You’re surprised,” Jensen says and takes a drink of the strong, rich brew.

Beaver nods. “I am ...”

There’s a rattle and door bursts open. Jared stands there and looks back and forth between Jensen and Beaver. “Jim,” he says, “I wasn’t expecting you to be here.”

Beaver eyes Jensen. “Yeah, there’s something I need to talk to you about,” he says to Jared. Couldn’t wait and needed to be away from the office.

Jared swings the door shut. “Yeah, okay, uh ...”

“I’m heading back to campus,” Jensen says. He pours the rest of his coffee out and sets the cup in the sink.

“Jen ...”

“I’ve got Lit in like an hour and I have to stop at the library on the way,” he says. Jared is watching him with that concerned expression. “Seriously, it’s fine,” he says to Jared. He walks around the end of the counter to the dining table and stuffs his books into his backpack. “I’ll see you later. Nice to see again, sir.”

“You too,” Beaver says.

Jared follows him into the hall and pulls the door shut. He grabs Jensen’s arm before he can walk away. “Jen, hey.”

“It’s okay,” he says. “I’m okay.” But the words somehow bring back the anxiety and tension, and his voice cracks. Jared hugs him and kisses his temple.

“Don’t go,” Jared says. “Stay. I’ll tell Jim to go fuck himself.”

Jensen can’t help but laugh. “You would, wouldn’t you?”

“Yes,” Jared says.

“You’re an idiot,” Jensen says. He pulls back and looks at Jared. “I’ll be all right. Honestly.”

“Jensen.” Jared frowns.

Jensen tips his head up, offering his mouth, and Jared kisses him. It’s just a firm, lingering press of lips, but it reaches down into Jensen’s chest and eases the tension and fear.

“I’ll be fine,” he says. “See you this evening?”

“I’ll be here,” Jared says.

Jensen steps away and heads down the hallway.

“You know to call if ...”

“Yeah, yeah,” Jensen tosses back over his shoulder.

###

“Jensen,” Dr. Forrester says as he enters, “we’ve been concerned.” The doctor had stood as Jensen came through the door, and now wore a puzzled expression as Jared followed Jensen in.

“Yeah, I, um, this is Jared ...”

Jared reaches around him to offer Forrester his hand. The other big, warm palm comes to rest on Jensen’s shoulder. There is a slight squeeze of reassurance.

“Jared Padalecki, sir. Friend of Jensen’s.”

“I see,” Forrester says, but clearly he doesn’t see. He’s never heard Jared’s name. Have a seat. Jensen sits in his usual place, the green striped chair, and Jared sits in the brown leather one. Jensen still feels the impression of Jared’s hand on his shoulder. He wishes it were still there.

“Maybe I should give you some background,” Jared says. He crosses his right ankle over his knee and laces his fingers together in his lap.

 _He’s completely at ease,_ Jensen thinks. _Or fakes it really well._ He wishes he had that ability.

“I’m a police officer,” Jared says. “I was at the Harness Club the night of the raid and later I helped Jensen get into New Horizons.”

“I see,” Forrester says again. “So the two of you have kept in touch?”

“No,” Jared says.

“I’m afraid I feel that I’m at a disadvantage here,” Forrester says. “Has something happened? Is Jensen in some kind of trouble?” He looks from Jared to Jensen.

“I think you need to tell him about the rule, Jen.”

Forrester glances at Jared and then back at Jensen. “What rule is that, Jensen?”

Jensen rubs the back of his neck. “To call Jared,” he says. “I can’t check out without calling Jared first.”

Forrester’s eyes widen and he takes a deep breath. “By check out, you mean kill yourself?”

Jensen nods.

“And how many times have you called?” Forrester asks.

“Once.”

“How many times has the rule come into play, Jen?” Jared asks.

Jensen doesn’t answer. He bites his lip and yanks a thread off his jeans, twines it around his finger. He knows they’re both looking at him.

“Jensen, come on. We can’t help you, if you don’t talk,” Jared says. He doesn’t sound like the cop who introduced himself to Forrester. He sounds like the guy at the club, the guy who begged him not to leave. “How many times did you have my number in your hand?”

“I don’t know,” Jensen says. “A few.” He glances up at Forrester whose eyes drop shut a moment too long to be a blink.

“Why haven’t you talked to me about this?” he asks.

“You can have me put away in a mental ward,” Jensen says. “I can’t ... please.”

“If you are a danger to yourself, Jensen,” Forrester says. “Are you a danger to yourself?”

“No,” Jensen says. “I have the rule. I have Jared.”

“So he called and asked you for help,” Forrester says to Jared.

“No,” Jared replied. “He ...”

“It was enough,” Jensen interrupts. “I just needed ... It was enough.”

Jared twists around in his chair to face Jensen. “What was enough?”

Jensen’s breath hitches in his chest. “That you remembered me. That you said you’d help.”

“You wouldn’t return my calls,” Jared said. “I had to track you down. It’s gotten worse, hasn’t it? “

“Recently?” Forrester asks. “Since you’ve begun going to the bar?”

Jensen gives him a warning look.

“What bar? What are you talking about?” Jared asks.

Jensen shakes his head. “It’s not important,” he says.

“Are you drinking? Is that it?” Jared asks. “And what kind of bar is this? You’re underage.”

“No,” Jensen says. “I don’t ... you know I don’t drink. I said it isn’t important. Let it go.”

“Do you want Jared to step outside so we can talk?” Forrester asks.

“No! I don’t fucking want Jared to leave!”

Forrester stiffens but doesn’t speak.

Jared reaches across the gap between the two chairs and takes Jensen’s hand. “Jen, hey, what is it?”

The anger disappears when he looks at Jared. Jensen licks his lips, thinks about how to say this. “I was going to a bar and hooking up with guys. It was stupid and self-destructive, and it’s over. It has nothing to do with you.”

Jared just nods and squeezes his hand. “Okay.”

Jensen looks up, could fall into those eyes. He just wants Jared to take him into his bed, claim him, never let him do anything stupid again. Maybe that’s not healthy – maybe not – but it’s self-preservation. Smart even, he thinks.

“I’m not going to hurt myself. I promise.”

Jared squeezes his hand again.

 

 


	7. Chapter 7

Jensen stops dead just inside the door of the apartment. “I don’t want to go there anymore,” he says.

“Yeah, me neither,” Jared says. He’s just kicked off his shoes, turns and looks at Jensen. “You’re serious.”

“Yeah, I sort of am.”

Jared sits down on a barstool with his hands on his knees. “Do you think that’s a good idea? You need someone to talk to.”

“I can talk to you.”

“Yeah, of course you can,” he says with a smile. “But maybe you need someone neutral too. Someone who isn’t so involved.”

“You aren’t neutral?”

Jared huffs out a laugh and his eyes sparkle as his smile grows. “I’m not the least bit neutral,” he says. He stands and takes the two steps that close the distance between them. His hands slide up Jensen’s arms, igniting tiny signal fires along his skin. “You have to know that, don’t you?”

“I was hoping, but you know, you ... hold back.”

“Hold back?”

“Yeah,” Jensen says and slips away. He goes into the kitchen and gets a soda, sets it on the counter and pops the lid. Jared is standing in beside the dining table looking flummoxed.

“I, I don’t understand,” he says. “I talk to you. I’m honest with you.”

“No,” Jensen says. “Not that. You talk to me, but it’s ... when we’re together, when you touch me ...” He doesn’t know why he’s having such a hard time just saying it, just asking, Why won’t you fuck me? He gestures towards the sofa. “You always stop. You pull away.”

Jared’s mouth drops open. “I told you I didn’t want to rush it. I know you’ve been hurt before.”

“I’m damaged,”Jensen says. He’s sure of the truth of it. Jared has seen him, all of him, he knows.

“No!” Jared rounded the end of the counter and grasped Jensen’s shoulders. “No, that isn’t it. Jen, shit, I ... You reached out to me because you were on the verge of killing yourself. Hey, look at me. I’m not going to take advantage of the trust you’ve put in me. That doesn’t mean that I don’t want you. I do. God, can’t you tell how much?”

Jensen tips his head away. “But you stop.”

“Because I have super human will power,” Jared says. “Jen, hey, we have time.” Jared takes Jensen’s face in his hands and kisses him. “I want it to be right. I want you to be ready.”

“I am.”

“I want to be sure. Please. The last thing I want to do is hurt you.”

“You won’t. It won’t,” Jensen murmurs.

“Then trust me on this because **I** need to be sure that you’re ready, okay?”

Jensen nods. “Okay.”

But it isn’t okay. Not really. Because Jared has seen him. All of him. Naked and used. He saw Jenny covered in come, a slut, a hole, a pussy.

He lays his cheek on Jared’s shoulder and soaks up his warmth. This is all he wants. This man. To not be alone.

###

Jensen is standing in the vestibule of his apartment building going through his mail. He doesn’t look up when the door opens, just continues dropping junk mail into the trash can in the corner.

“Hello, sweetie, how’s it going?” There’s a guy standing at the mailboxes. He’s wearing jeans and a blue polo shirt. He has short blonde hair and the dark eyes that meet Jensen’s are familiar. He’s only seen Tina dressed like this once before.

“I’m good,” Jensen says. “How’s your mom?”

Tina shuts her mailbox and leans a shoulder against the wall. “She’s as well as a woman with early onset Alzheimer’s can be expected to be,” she says. “Want to come up for a drink? I should sure use one.”

“Um, yeah, I have a little while before Jared gets home from work.” Jensen follows Tina onto the elevator.

“I swear if I’m ever diagnosed with that shit I will put a bullet in my head,” Tina says. Her eyes widen and she begins to stutter. “Oh, I … I … Oh Jesus, honey …”

Jensen shakes his head. “Don’t. It’s okay, he says. I’m not fragile.”

Tina cocks an eyebrow at him. “Well, that’s good to hear.” The elevator reaches the third floor, and they make their way in silence in to Tina’s apartment.

“There’s beer and wine in the frig,” Tina says as she heads for the bedroom. “Help yourself. I have to get out of this get-up.”

Her small kitchen is spotless. It’s almost entirely bright white with splashes of color – pinwheel colored lollipops in a bottle blue vase sit in place of a bouquet of flowers, rainbow striped dish towels hang from the handle of the stove, a purple toaster sets beside a green coffee maker.

Jensen finds wine glasses and fills them from a box of Chardonnay in the refrigerator. Tina is coming out the bedroom wearing the green silk robe she’d loaned him and a peacock blue scarf wrapped around her head.

“You are a darling,” she says as she collapses onto the cream colored couch.

Jensen smiles. “Jared calls me darlin’.”

“I bet he does,” she says with a wink. “How’s that going?”

Jensen leans back and  takes a drink of wine. “I don’t know. I mean, he’s been great, and we get along fine – hanging out and … making out.”

“But?” She draws her feet up under her.

“But it never gets further than that,” he says. “I mean, I don’t get it. It feels so hot, it’s like we’re going to combust and then he stops.”

“Does he say why?” Her perfectly arched brows knit.

Jensen huffs. “He says he wants to take it slow. He doesn’t want to rush things. I mean, what the hell?”

“You don’t get why? The man cares about you. Just a few weeks ago you were on the edge of the abyss. Remember?”

“If he cared about me, he’d show me. He’d take me to bed. He’d make me feel good. He’d show me that it doesn’t matter.”

“What doesn’t matter, sweetie?” She leans forward and rubs his arm.

“The past.”

“He knows you were a hustler, and you think that’s why he won’t take you to bed?”

“No, there’s other stuff, he says. The man I told you about. He …” The wine is making him flushed. He sets the glass on the table. Leans his elbows on his knees and stares down at the toes of his sneakers. The new ones, Converse, that Jared bought him because the stains wouldn’t come out of his old ones. “He did things to me. Jared knows.”

“This guy hurt you. That’s how you met Jared?”

“Yeah.”

Tina sets her glass down and turns, sits right beside him with an arm over his back. She kisses his temple. “Honey, you trust that big, gorgeous cop with your life. Maybe, you need to trust him with your heart. If he says that he doesn’t want to rush because he cares about you, I think it’s true. Do you know why you don’t believe him?”

He nods. “Yeah. It’s my problem, not his.”

The arm tightens around his shoulders. “You’re such a smart boy.”

Jensen isn’t so sure about that. Knowing something and believing it are two different things. But he picks up his wine and takes a sip.

###

It’s been days since Jensen talked to Tina, but he can’t stop examining the conversation in his head, but he needs to. He has finals to study for. Jensen leans back in the office chair and puts his feet up on the desk. Without looking up from his Logic text, he takes a sip of iced tea from the McDonald’s cup. He absently reaches down and rubs Bo’s head.

Three friends have lunch at a diner. Their bill comes to $15. They each put in $5. The server takes the money to the owner who recognizes the three as friends and asks the server to return $5 to the men.

The server is not only poor at mathematics but dishonest and instead of going to the trouble of splitting the $5 between the three she gives them each $1 and pockets the remaining $2 for herself.

Because each of the men effectively paid $4, the total paid is therefore $12. Add the $2 in the server’s pocket and this comes to $14.....where has the other $1 gone from the original $15?

Jensen pauses a moment and frowns. Nowhere, dumbass, he mumbles, they paid $10. There was five in change. They each got $1, which is $3, and the waitress kept $2. He makes a note in the margin of the book. Holy crap, really?

There’s a sound of a throat clearing and a movement in the corner of his eye. He looks up, and there’s a guy standing there. Where the fuck did he come from? Jensen didn’t hear the bell over the door, and Bo is still lying at his feet, although the dog has now looked up as well. Jensen drops his feet to the floor.

“Oh, hi,” he says. “Didn’t hear you come in.”

“That’s okay. Looks like you’re pretty absorbed there in … Logic?” The guy’s kind of adorable, kind of hot. Slim but muscular, with dark hair and teasing gray eyes.

“Yeah,” Jensen says and lays the book on the desk. “Just a lot of trick questions.”

The guy laughs. “I know, right? Dr. Conroy?”

“Yeah,” Jensen says. “So can I help you …”

“Matt, yeah, I was looking for a … well, actually I’m not sure,” Matt says. “See, I have this Lit class, British Lit, and I’m barely getting a B. I just … Anyway, I need to come up with an outstanding paper. We’ve just read _Castle of Otranto_ and _Mysteries of Udolpho_. The prof really seems to love this stuff.”

“Gothic, yeah,” Jensen says. “Dr. Bradford, I’d bet.”

“Yeah,” Matt says. “You’ve had her.”

“No,” Jensen says and rises to his feet. “Just ran into her in the English office and got talking.”

“So you’re like a Senior?” Matt says as he follows Jensen between two towering aisles of books.

“No, freshman,” Jensen says. His eyes scan the shelves.

“Freshman? And you’re hanging out in the English office striking up conversations with profs?” Matt’s voice has a teasing quality, and when Jensen looks over, the guy is close, his smile flirtatious.

Jensen feels heat rise in his cheeks. He shrugs. “I’m a Lit major,” he says. He pulls out a paperback from the shelf. “Has she mentioned this? _The Monk_?”

“Um, maybe,” Matt says.

Jensen offers Matt the book. “Read this,” he says. “Write a paper about how _The Monk_ takes the trappings of Gothic as you’ve studied them in class in _Otranto_ and _Udolpho_ and uses them to bridge to what we now consider horror.”

“Are you serious?” Matt looks horrified.

“That’s what I would do,” Jensen says. He’s a little mystified by the guy’s response.

Matt looks blankly at him for a moment before saying, “I’m a math major.”

“Oh,” Jensen says. “Or you could just compare and contrast the female protagonists in the three novels. She’ll really appreciate the extra work you did in reading another novel, and I promise you’ll like this one more – graphic sex and violence.”

Matt snorts out a laugh. “Sold,” he says and takes the book from Jensen. His fingers linger over Jensen’s.

Jensen feels suddenly shy and the heat rises in his cheeks again.

“Listen, I …” Matt begins.

“Have a boyfriend,” Jensen says quietly.

“What?”

“I have a boyfriend.”

“Oh,” Matt says, “of course you do.”

“Um, but thanks,” Jensen says with a smile.

“No, hey, that’s … thank you,” Matt says holding the book up and heads to the front to pay. “Who knows, maybe I’ll pull an A in this class, and I’ll have you to thank.”

“If not, you can always blame me,” Jensen says. Bo, who had dogged Jensen’s heels, stops next to Matt to be petted while Jensen rings up his purchase.

“Thanks a lot, um …”

“Jensen.”

“Jensen.” Matt nods and his gaze lingers, plays over Jensen’s face and down his body. “Yeah, thanks.”

“You’re welcome,” Jensen says to his back and really fine ass as he leaves.

Jensen drops into the chair with a smile. He feels kind of giddy. It was nice in a completely non-threatening flirty kind of way. It feels good to get hit on by a sweet, hot guy who knows nothing about the real Jensen, nothing about Jenny.

Jensen feels a little too warm, kind of aroused and glances at his watch to see how much longer he has until Paul comes by to get Bo and lock up and Jensen can head home to Jared’s place.

###

Jensen dumps his backpack just inside the door and toes his sneakers off. He shrugs off his hoodie and hangs it over the back of a dining chair. He gets a Coke out the refrigerator but not before eyeing the six-pack of Modelo. He wonders what Jared would do if he drank one. He pops the Coke open debating what to do about dinner when the text tone chimes on his phone.

_Go ahead & eat. Gonna be late. See ya later._

Jensen huffs in annoyance.

 _K, see ya,_ he sends back

“Fuck,” he mumbles. He grabs a bag of chips and his soda and plops down on the sofa. He flips through channels as he polishes off half a bag of chips and the Coke. Absolutely nothing looks interesting. He needs to study anyway, but he’s restless and kind of horny. He ought to just jack off, get it over with, and then hit the books.

He takes the chips into the kitchen and clips the bag shut, tosses the can in the recycling bin. He knows it wasn’t enough to eat, but nothing sounds appealing enough to make, which is kind of stupid because he would have cooked if Jared had been coming home on time.

He turns on Jared’s laptop at the dining table and opens X-tube. He doesn’t take his time. He finds the dirtiest, roughest, loudest guys he can and in no time he’s spilling into a paper towel. He isn’t exactly satisfied, but it takes the edge off.

He closes the browser, cleans up, gets another Coke, and settles down to study.

He’s been at it for a couple of hours when he hears Jared’s keys rattle in the lock, and Jared isn’t exactly frowning, but he looks preoccupied. He has a white bag in his hand that sends out a steamy, savory smell.

“Hey,” he says without really looking at Jensen. He goes to the counter, sets the bag down, and begins emptying his pockets. He lays his cuffs and sidearm out and gets the gun case from the cabinet.

Jensen gets up and stands at the end of counter. He picks up the handcuffs, holds them dangling by one finger as Jared puts the gun away. He hasn’t planned this. His mouth just starts moving, words falling out.

“Ever used these to play with someone?”

The gun case closes with a bang and Jared looks up with raised brows. It’s the first time he’s really looked at Jensen since he walked in. “What?”

Jensen’s lips are trying to pull into a smile. “Ever cuffed anyone to your bed?”

Jared draws in a sharp breath. “No.”

Jensen bites his lip, looks at Jared through his lashes. He doesn’t quite understand it, but he knows the affect it has on men. “Would you like to?”

Jared moves so fast, Jensen can’t recall how he became pressed against the wall, Jared’s body solid and hot along his. Jared’s fingers move around his wrist, then tangle with his fingers and the cuffs.

“Are you playing with me?” Jared asks. His eyes are dark, his voice raw with want.

Jensen’s body sizzles with arousal. He feels powerful. He doesn’t reach for Jared. He leans back, lets Jared crowd him. “Want you to play with me.”

Jared’s fingers move fast and sure. The click of the cuff closing around his wrist sends blood throbbing in Jensen’s cock. He gasps.

“Is that what you want, Jen? You want me to strip you down and cuff you to the bed?”

Jensen is practically panting. He nods. “What would you do then?”

“First, I’d kiss you breathless.” His mouth closes over Jensen’s, and it’s demanding, opening and occupying. A hand at the back of his neck is tipping his head, moving him how Jared wants him.

 _Don’t stop,_ Jensen thinks. _Please don’t stop this time. Keep going. Take me. Just fucking do this._

Jared doesn’t stop. The kiss is long, hot, wet, deep. Jensen actually is breathless when Jared’s mouth moves back along Jensen’s jaw.

“And then?” Jensen asks.

“And then,” Jared murmurs against his ear, “I’d explore you with my mouth and my hands.” He laves over Jensen’s throat, sucks at the skin over his pulse.

“And … and then?”

He feels Jared huff out a laugh against his skin. “I’d keep going, your chest and belly, mm, your gorgeous cock. I’d play with it, licking and sucking, but you’re won’t getting off, not yet.” Jared moves to the other side of his neck.” No, I’d spread your legs and open you up with tongue and my fingers.”

Jensen’s cock is rock hard, and he’s pretty sure that precome has soaked through his jeans, and fuck, he just may cream his shorts if Jared doesn’t take him into the bedroom and make good on his promises.

“I’m going to get you so loose and wet, and then …”

“What?” Jensen gasps.

Jared presses his lips to Jensen’s ear and low, raw he says, “I’m going to fuck you until you can’t remember your own name.”

Voice breaking, Jensen says, “Please.”

Jared pulls back enough to look at him. “Yeah? Yeah.” He yanks Jensen away from the wall and manhandles him into the bedroom where he strips him out of his clothes as though he’s no more than a child.

Jensen’s naked on his back, wrists pinned beneath Jared’s when Jared stops. His eyes search Jensen’s face. “You’re sure?”

Jensen understands Jared’s reticence. This is so much like he found him, hands bound above his head, helpless and used, but this is Jared and, “Yes,” he says, “Please.”

Jared stands, pulls the knot out of his tie and drops it to the floor, and as he takes off his jacket, begins to strip off his shirt, his eyes never leave Jensen who lies panting, cock hard and drooling, proof of his desire. Jared’s trousers join his shirt and jacket on the floor. He’s so fucking beautiful, all that muscle and golden skin, and Jensen desperately wants to feel that body against his. He’s dreamed about it, imagined it alone late night on the couch and  every morning in the shower as his hand stroked him through to completion.

“Hurry,” he says.

Jared’s eyes narrow, and he looks as much animal as human. He drags his boxers down his long legs and climbs onto the bed. He crawls over Jensen and kisses him just as long and deeply as in the hallway. Jared is still on his hands and knees, and Jensen is squirming, hips bucking as he tries to make contact with Jared.

“Jared, Jared,” he says. There’s desperation in his voice.

“What is it, darlin’?” He sucks at Jensen’s neck, rolls the skin between his teeth, bringing the blood to the surface, and making it burn and sting. He leans up and gazes at Jensen with eyes that are lust dark.

“Touch me,” Jensen begs. “Need you to.”

“I am touching you, Jen,” he says with wicked grin. He places a light kiss on Jensen’s lips before leaning back down and sucking a nipple between his lips. Jensen arches off the bed with a moan. Jared’s tongue flicks at the hard nub sending shocks of sensation through Jensen. He moves to the other nipple, sucking and nibbling before trailing kisses over his ribs, down his belly. He buries his face in the curls of Jensen’s crotch and inhales with a growl. Jensen’s hips roll seeking some friction for his straining cock. Jared pulls away and places a forearm over Jensen’s hips to hold him down.

Jared’s tongue snakes out and licks the precome from Jensen’s slit. It punches something close to a sob from Jensen. He arches his upper body, and the headboard creaks from the way he’s pulling at the cuffs. Jared sucks the head of Jensen’s cock between his lips, but his fingers are wrapped tight around the base of Jensen’s cock preventing him from coming. His tongue swirls around the crown, teases the little bundle of nerves on the underside, flicks into the slit as he pulls off.

He licks a stripe up Jensen’s shaft before moving to his balls. Jared pushes Jensen’s legs apart and up. Fingers grip almost bruisingly. He laves over the sac before tracing a path down his perineum. Jensen’s muscles twitch as the tip of Jared’s tongue teases the ruffled edges of his hole. Jensen lets his legs fall farther apart, and Jared pushes his hands under Jensen’s buttocks, lifts, thrusts his tongue deep into Jensen.

Jensen cries out and jerks on the handcuffs. His hole feels bereft as Jared slides the slick muscle out.

“Hold on, Jen. Not yet.” He thrusts back in, again and again. A finger slides in as well, crooks, rubs over Jensen’s prostate. Jensen’s on fire. He writhes.

“Now,” he demands. “Fuck me now.”

Jared lifts Jensen’s hips as he rises, pushes his knees under them. He rubs the head of his cock over Jensen’s opening. The promise of it, the slick, firm pressure has Jensen trying to drive up onto it. Jared pauses, looking up the length of Jensen’s body, gaze stopping on his face.

“Please,” Jensen says. “Don’t stop.”

Jared’s smile is both sweet and predatory. With a steady push of his hips, Jared’s cock opens and fills Jensen. He slides in to the hilt and barely pauses before pulling back to the head and plunging back in, setting up a fast, rough pace that has him panting with exertion. Sweat is running down Jared’s face and chest as he slams into Jensen, lighting him up from within.

Jensen can hear himself moaning with each thrust of Jared’s cock. He has no control over the sounds or the way his body moves in rhythm with Jared. His channel is so open, swallowing Jared’s flesh down, wanting more and more and more. His balls draw up tight, lights flash behind his eyelids as his climax explodes within him. His muscles clamp down on Jared’s cock, and the sound that comes from Jensen is primal.

Jared’s movements falter as he slicks Jensen’s channel, his seed spilling deep inside Jensen whose belly and chest are painted with his own release. Jared pushes in, rocks back and forth, his eyes squeeze shut. He bites his lip and lets out a low moan. When he opens his eyes, there’s a self-satisfied little smile pulling at his broad lips. Shallow dimples crease his cheeks.

“Fuck but you’re gorgeous,” he says. He lets his cock slide free and sits back on his heels. He looks down at Jensen’s fucked open hole a moment before scooting down and thrusting his tongue back in. He sucks his come from Jensen’s body with an obscene slurp. When he rises up, he’s licking his lips.

He flops down beside Jensen and kisses his cheek. “That what you wanted, Jen?”

“Yeah,” Jensen replies breathlessly. “Yeah.” He smiles. He feels good – relaxed and sated and cared for.

Jared smiles right back. He props himself up on an elbow and lets his gaze wander over Jensen – from his cuffed wrists to his come splattered body. “My God, you are somethin’,” he says. “Never thought I’d let myself have this.”

“I’m glad you changed your mind,” Jensen says.

“I didn’t,” Jared says. “You play dirty. Overwhelmed my defenses with all your hotness.”

“Are you glad I did?”

Jared cups Jensen’s cheek. His thumb strokes over the freckled cheekbone. “Yeah, I am,” he says. He leans in and brushes his lips over Jensen’s. Then, his stomach growls and they both laugh.

“I’m starving,” he says as he slides from the bed. “You?”

“Yeah, but …” Jensen watches Jared’s fabulous ass and back as he walks out of the room. “Jared! Hey!” He tugs pointlessly at the cuffs.

Jared walks back in a minute later with a wet washcloth. He leans over the bed and washes the come from Jensen’s torso and from between his cheeks.

“Hold on,” he says and walks out again. He returns with a beer and the white bag he’d come home with. He sits cross-legged on the bed and pulls out a Chinese take-out carton and opens it.

“Garlic chicken. You like it?” he asks. He fits chop sticks between his long fingers.

“Yeah,” Jensen says.

Jared deftly picks up a piece of chicken with the chop sticks and guides it Jensen’s mouth. He takes a snow pea for himself. They eat back and forth like that for a while with Jared taking occasional sips of beer.

“Can I have a drink?” Jensen asks.

“Huh-uh,” Jared says. “You’d choke in that position.”

“You could un-cuff me,” Jensen says.

Jared’s eyes darken and his lips quirk. “No,” he says. “I’m not done with you yet.”


	8. Chapter 8

Jensen rolls over, stretches like a cat and relaxes into warm cocoon of linens. He presses his face into Jared’s pillow and inhales. This is the best morning he can remember maybe ever. When he awoke, Jared’s fingers were running through his hair, his lips pressed to Jensen’s. Morning breath be damned, they’d let the kiss linger.

Dimples cut into Jared’s cheeks when he broke the kiss. “I like this,” he’d said, “waking up with you in my bed.”

“Me too,” Jensen replied. He’d moved closer to Jared, discovered Jared had morning wood as well. Jared spit into his hand and slid it up the length of Jensen’s cock, stroked until precome coated it. Jensen gasped and hummed.

“God, you make the hottest sounds,” Jared said. His voice was husky with want, and Jensen’s hips bucked. Jared captured both their cocks in his hand. The hard lengths slid against each other as they both fucked into his fist. Jensen offered his mouth again, and Jared took it, wet and sloppy, bodies moving in a messy rhythm.

Jensen came first, eyes slamming shut, gasping, shaking as pleasure swept through him that wasn’t entirely physical. This wasn’t a dream or fantasy. This was real right here in the dark before dawn in Jared’s bed. When he opened his eyes, Jared was watching him. Jared’s eyes fell shut and he bit his lip, as more hot slick coated their bellies.

Jensen smiled at the memory. They’d both risen. Jensen cleaned himself up in the bathroom, and Jared started getting ready for work. Jensen didn’t have class or work that morning, so he’d crawled back into bed not wanting to lose the warm glow. He had nearly drifted off when Jared came in dressed for work in a navy suit and kissed him.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to wake you,” he’d said.

“S’okay,” Jensen murmured. He smiled sleepily and rubbed his eyes. Jared grasped Jensen’s wrist, rubbed his thumb over the aching nub of bone, pulled it to his lips and kissed it.

“You’re all bruised,” he said. “Let me see the other one.” Jensen held it up, and sure enough, both wrists were ringed in bruises from the cuffs.

“Just bruises,” he muttered. “I’m fine.”

“Still, I didn’t mean to hurt you,” Jared said.

“It was worth it,” Jensen said. “It was awesome.”

Jared smiled back, smoothed Jensen’s hair. “You’re awesome, darlin.’ See you later.”

He’d wanted to pull Jared back into bed, but he let him go. He closed his eyes. He’d have to be content with the memories of the night. After Jared had fed him Chinese food, he’d crawled between Jensen’s legs, taken him in his mouth and licked and suckled and swallowed him down. He’d had Jensen on edge, teasing and toying with him until Jensen was begging, almost weeping. His orgasm took his breath away. His mouth opened on a scream but he hadn’t the breath for sound.

Jared rolled him over then and thoroughly fucked him again. Jensen was so spent he couldn’t get a hard on, but that didn’t stop him from coming on Jared’s dick, fluid running from his flaccid cock onto the sheets. All he could do was whimper.

Jared had taken the cuffs off then, but Jensen didn’t move. He wasn’t sure he could. He felt rung out. Jared had maneuvered him onto his side and held him and kissed him. He’d told him how awesome he was, how gorgeous and perfect.

“Was that good, Jen?”

Jensen nuzzled against Jared’s neck. “Mmm,” was all he could manage.

Jared chuckled. He was rubbing circles on Jensen’s back. “Is that a yes?”

“Mm-hmm.”  He snaked an arm around Jared’s waist. “Can I sleep here?”

Jared stilled and pulled back. He looked at Jensen with knitted brows. “Of course you can. Yeah. I want you to.” He kissed Jensen’s forehead and pulled him close.

Jensen sighed and drifted off.

But he wondered now if that was always or just for the night. Would Jared try to invoke his rule again? Would Jensen be sleeping on the couch? He tried to push the anxiety away. He wanted to just stay in Jared’s bed all day, be here when he got home from work, spread his legs and be filled again and be Jared’s.

###

Jensen hasn’t seen much of Jared the past couple of days because he’s been on some big case – leaving early, getting home late – so Jensen had grinned when he got a text that Jared would pick him up after work. It isn’t late, but the December days are short, and it’s already getting dark as they drive home.

“So listen, there’s something I’ve wanted to talk to you about for the past couple of days,” Jared says.

Jensen feels his stomach drop. He’s been sleeping with Jared, and they’ve had sex every night even if it had been quick because he was tired and had to get up early. Jared had seemed into it, like he really wanted Jensen. That’s what Jensen had told himself anyway. Now, he doesn’t think he wants to know what Jared wants to talk about.

“What?” Jensen says because Jared had been talking and maybe he wasn’t really listening, but he’s pretty sure he didn’t just hear what he thought he had.

“Christmas,” Jared says. “It’s the first year since I became a cop that I have Christmas off. First, I was rookie, and then I was single – I’ve worked every year, but now that I’m a detective, I have the day off unless there’s a break in this case. I thought we could drive down to my folks the night before and spend Christmas day with my family.”

“I ... Are you serious?” he asks.

“Of course, I’m serious,” Jared glances at him with a frown. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

Jensen wants to get out of the car. His pulse is racing and there’s not enough air. His hand is actually on the door handle, but the car is probably going 35. Jared grabs his arm.

“Jensen!” he says. He pulls the car to the side of the road and puts it in park. He twists in the seat. “Hey, what is it?”

“Why would you?”

“Expect you to go with me? I just thought ... I mean, I guess since we’re living together, sleeping together ...” He pauses, eyebrows raised. “Maybe I misunderstood how you felt.”

“It’s like that?” Jensen says in confusion.

“What?” Jared looks just as confused.

“Me and you.”

“Jen, why do you think we’re living together and having sex?”

Jensen just shakes his head. “I live with you because you were worried about me.”

Jared runs his fingers through his hair. “Look, maybe we should have talked about this before.” He sighs. “Yes, when I asked you to come stay with me, it was because I was worried about you. Things have changed. Right? I mean, you have to know that.” His fingers trace circles on the nape of Jensen’s neck. “The past few days together. We’re ... “

“We’re what?” Jensen asks. It’s barely more than a whisper.

“I don’t know,” Jared says. “Boyfriends doesn’t seem adequate, but we’re a couple, aren’t we? Don’t you feel that way?”

“You mean that?”

Jared nods. “I was thinking that maybe you don’t need your apartment anymore, but I didn’t want to push you.”

Relief makes Jensen feel weak. “I, yeah, I could get out of my lease,” he says. “I want to be with you.”

“Awesome,” Jared says. He visibly relaxes, leans forward and gives Jensen a kiss. He faces forward again, puts the car into gear, and pulls back into traffic. “Now, about Christmas.”

###

Jensen’s bent over the kitchen counter with Jared’s cock filling him. His jeans are around his ankles, and Jared’s dressed in his suit, fly open, cock pulled through the flap in his shorts. There’s a hand on Jensen’s shoulder, one on his hip holding him in place. Jared’s cussing and Jensen’s moaning, both panting like they’ve been doing sprints.

This is fast and dirty. There’s no time for endearments or foreplay. There’s been too little time lately. Too much need building. Jared’s pounding into his prostate, and Jensen’s balls are tight and full, cock drooling when Jared’s hand slips causing Jensen to buck forward. His hands skid across the counter making a sandwich plate clatter across the surface and an ice tea glass overturn. The puddle of chilled liquid soaking into his shirt does nothing to quell the heat as Jensen tips over the edge with a gasp. His body goes bow string taut, his muscles clenching around Jared, milking the orgasm from him as well. Jared pushes in deep and coats Jensen’s channel with his release.

Jared’s had comes down next to Jensen as he leans over him, kisses him between the shoulder blades.

“Jesus fucking Christ, Jen,” he pants. “Your ass ...”

Jensen’s draped across the counter. Despite his wet shirt, he’d like to stay there a few more moments with Jared inside him. Jared rubs his shoulder, kisses his neck, and stands. His cock slips free, and Jensen hears water running in the sink as Jared washes up. He doesn’t move.

Jared chuckles. “Come on, darlin’,” he says. “You can’t lie on the counter like that. You’re all wet.” Jensen pushes himself up and drags his jeans back over his hips. Jared strips Jensen’s t-shirt off him. He wipes Jensen’s chest off with the dry part of the t-shirt. His arms wrap around Jensen and hug him tight. He kisses Jensen soft and lingering.

“Thanks for lunch,” Jared says with a smirk.

“You didn’t even eat.”

“Who needs food?” Jared says.

Jensen slips out of his arms and grabs a sandwich bag from the cabinet. He puts Jared’s sandwich in it and gets a Mountain Dew out the refrigerator.

“Here,” he says holding them out. “You need to eat.”

“Have I told you you’re awesome?” Jared asks. “Cause you’re awesome.”

“Yeah, you too,” Jensen says with a smile.

“See ya tonight, darlin’.” Jared gives him a quick kiss and heads for the door.

“Yeah,” Jensen says as the door closes. He gets some paper towels and wipes up the remaining spilled tea and the come running down the lower cabinet door. He wonders what to do with himself the rest of the afternoon.

###

“I haven’t celebrated Christmas since I was like 15,” Jensen says. “It’s perfectly fine for me to stay here while you go visit your folks.”

Jensen is standing in the bathroom doorway drinking coffee while Jared shaves. Hazel eyes glance away from their task to Jensen’s reflection in the mirror.

“I’m not about to leave town for Christmas and leave you here alone,” Jared says.

“It’s okay.”

“It’s not okay, Jen,” Jared says as he draws the razor under his jaw. He rinses it in the sink and starts on the other side. “I want my family to meet you. You’re important to me. I’ve been telling my mama about you.”

“Yeah? What if they ask how we met?”

Jared rinses the razor and wipes his face with a wet wash cloth. He turns to Jensen then. “I told her that I met you while I was investigating a case and that you were not a suspect. That’s all they need to know.” He reaches out and takes Jensen by the wrist, pulls him into his arms. “It’s always kind of awkward, nerve racking, to meet someone’s family, but it’ll be fine. You’re gorgeous and smart and funny. How could they not love you?”

Jared’s smile falters when Jensen’s face remains serious. “I know about your past,” Jared says. “And what I know is that you are strong. You have such courage and heart. I wish to God that you could see yourself the way I see you.”

Jensen leans into Jared’s embrace. “I try, but how I feel, it ... it just blindsides me sometimes.”

“I know, darlin’.”

Jensen tips his head up and looks into stormy eyes. “You just mean so much to me.”

“And you mean the world to me, Jen.”

Jensen’s vision goes blurry. “I do?”

“Yeah, of course, you do,” Jared says. He sweeps his thumbs beneath Jensen’s eyes. “Unfortunately, I have to get ready for work.” He takes the cup from Jensen’s hand and takes a drink of the black coffee. He grimaces. “Uh, that’s horrible.”

“Yours is by the sink,” Jensen says with a smile.

###

The letter crumples in Jensen’s hand, but the letterhead – Texas Department of Corrections – remains imprinted in his mind. He rises on shaky legs and goes into the bedroom, crawls into bed, and pulls the covers up.

He’d gone back to his apartment and gathered up the few remaining clothes and books before giving his key to the building manager and leaving a note on Tina’s door. He grabbed his mail on the way out. When he’d gotten home, he’d put the clothes away and set the books aside before going through the mail. It was mostly junk, a notice from the university, a couple bills, and then The Letter.

He hugs Jared’s pillow and curls into a ball. He can’t stop the memories and feelings that ambush him every time he tries to clear his mind. Jeff’s voice so full of affection. _Jenny, my good girl._ His mouth hot and wet through thin cotton over Jensen’s nipple. His hands spreading Jensen’s ass cheeks. A crowd of men watching as Jeff exposed his breasts and played with them. Jeff turning his back as Jensen lay bound and helpless, another man’s cock in his ass.

The trial. Jeff insisting that it was all consensual. Jensen liked being Jenny, liked the changes, liked being used. _She never once said different._ The letters that came even after Jensen got to New Horizons. _Wait for me, baby. When I get out, I’ll find you_.

He doesn’t hear Jared come into the apartment. It’s grown dark outside and inside. Jensen hasn’t moved.

The light goes on in the hallway and spills through the bedroom door. A silhouette appears in the square of light and Jensen tenses.

“Jen? What are you doing laying here in the dark?”

He relaxes a little. Jared approaches, sits on the edge of the bed, strokes Jensen’s hair.

“You sick?”

Jensen puts his hand out, the paper still clutched in his fingers. Jared takes it and turns on the light beside the bed.

“Fuck.” He runs his fingers through his hair.

“They’re letting him out,” Jensen says.

Jared leans down and kisses his forehead, holds him. “It isn’t a done deal. We’re fighting it.”

Jensen shoves him away, and scoots back against the headboard with his knees drawn up. His heart is pounding. “You knew? You knew and you didn’t tell me?”

“I didn’t want to worry you,” Jared says. “I’m sorry you found out this way. I didn’t think they’d notify you so soon.”

“I had a right to know!” His voice cracks. Jensen’s fists are clenched, and he can’t remember when he’s been so angry – never with Jared, not like this.

“You’re right.” Jared nods. “I was trying to protect you. I screwed up. You had every right to know. You’re not a child. I just … I thought, hoped that the prosecutor could head this off, and you wouldn’t need to know.”

“Why? Why is this happening?”

Jared huffed out a breath. “Morgan’s attorney is claiming that the chain of evidence was compromised.”

“Was it?” Jensen’s arms are wrapped around his middle almost squeezing the breath from his lungs.

Jared purses his lips. “Looks like it may have been. He wants it thrown out.”

“And without it”? Jensen’s fingernails are cutting half-moons into the skin of his arms.

Jared moves closer to him. He lays a hand on Jensen’s foot, and it slides up under the hem of his jeans, caresses the bare skin of his ankle. “Sex crimes are notoriously difficult to prosecute.”

“They’re going to let him go.”

“No, we don’t know that, but it’s especially tricky when it’s a same sex situation. There’s prejudice in the judicial system too. The thing that we have going for us is that you were underage when it started.”

Jensen snorts. “And a prostitute. Just a hooker.”

Jared shakes his head. “You were just a kid.” His eyes fill and tears spill down his cheeks.

Jensen sees the young cop in blue leaning over him, hears him, _Jesus, kid, Jesus fucking Christ._ Jensen pushes himself away from the headboard and into Jared’s lap. Arms around him, he holds Jared tight. “Hey, I’m not that kid anymore. I’m okay. It’s okay.” He’s not quite sure who needs convincing more, him or Jared, but the words spill out and he wants to believe them.

###

“I should just stay here,” Jensen says.

Jared huffs and drops the duffle bag on the floor. “You aren’t staying here. We aren’t having his conversation again.” He puts his hands on his hips and glares at Jensen.

“I’ll be fine. I won’t hurt myself.”

Jared’s mouth drops open before he stutters out a reply. “I, Jesus, is that why you think I want you to go? Tomorrow is Christmas. I want to be with my family. You are part of my family now. I want to be with you on Christmas.” He’s speaking like Jensen doesn’t understand logic. Jensen got a fucking A in Logic. That isn’t the issue.

“I’ll fuck up,” Jensen says.

“No,” Jared says. He pulls Jensen into his arms and nearly lifts him off his feet. “You won’t fuck up, darlin’.” He sets Jensen down, but one hand remains on the small of his back, holding him close. The fingers of the other tip Jensen’s face up.

“Jen, is this about your family? About how they reacted to you coming out? Because my family is completely cool with it. My mama is thrilled that I’ve found someone who makes me happy. Yeah, you. You make me happy.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, and they are going to be nervous that you won’t like them, you know? Mama’s been calling me asking what you like to eat and do you prefer Coke or Pepsi.”

“She has not.”

“She has!” Jared leans back and crosses his finger over his heart. “Now, can we go?”

“Yeah, okay.”

“Good, because she’ll tan my hide if we’re late for dinner.”

###

“So Jensen, how come you aren’t with your own family at Christmas?” Jared’s brother, Mike, asks. They’re all seated at the dining room table – Mike and his wife Jan, and Jared’s younger sister Stacy, their mom Karen, and dad Tom. Mike and Jan’s kids Aaron and Kayla are eating chicken nuggets and macaroni and cheese at the kitchen table.

“Michael!” Karen scolds.

Mike jumps like he’s been kicked under the table, and maybe he has because Jared looks like he’s about to pummel him.

“It’s okay,” Jensen says. Jared’s glaring at his mom like she was supposed to make sure everyone knew not to talk about certain things. “My family didn’t accept me being gay,” Jensen says to Mike.

“Oh, sorry, dude. That sucks,” Mike says. He shovels mashed potatoes and gravy into his mouth.

“Yeah, it does,” Jensen says.

“I didn’t mean to imply that you aren’t welcome,” Mike says. “It’s great that Jared has more than his job in his life.”

“Absolutely,” Karen says with a smile. “It’s wonderful.”

“Although after some of the nuts he dated in college, who could blame him for swearing off guys for a while,” Mike commented.

“What?!” Jared’s fork clatters against his plate.

“Oh come on, man,” Mike said. “Drew was a drama queen, and Ryan was just plum crazy.”

“He wasn’t!” Jared says.

“Boys! That’s enough,” Karen says.

“He kind of was,” Tom says.

Their younger sister Stacy has been quiet through dinner. All she’s done is covertly watch Jensen when she thinks no one is watching. “Ryan was adorable,” she pipes in.

“Yeah, well, Jared always did catch good looking ones,” Mike says. He glances at Jensen with a smirk, and Jensen feels his cheeks heat up. “Nice that he finally found one that isn’t nuts.”

“Eat your dinner, Michael,” Karen says.

Jared just rolls his eyes.

###

“Sorry about my family,” Jared says. He locks the bedroom door and pulls his shirt off.

“Nothing to be sorry for,” Jensen says. He sits down on the edge of the bed. It’s kind of strange sharing a room with Jared in his parents’ house. “They were fine. Just … like family, you know.”

Jared chuckles. “Yeah. Do you miss that?”

“That what? The bickering? Weird, but I kind of do.” He lies back on the bed and stares up at the textured plaster ceiling that is typical of so many suburban tract houses. They’d had them in his own childhood home. “Family is the only place you can just bicker like that and it’s safe …” Jensen stops and bites his lip.

Jared stretches out beside him and places a hand on Jensen’s chest.

“I mean, it’s supposed to be safe,” Jensen says. “They’re supposed to accept you no matter what.”

“Yeah,” Jared says. “They are. You aren’t the one who failed, Jen. There was nothing wrong with you.”

“I know,” Jensen says. “I mean, I know it in my head.”

Jared suddenly sits up and scrambles off the bed. He rummages around in his bag and comes back with a small box wrapped in green paper with a gold bow on it. He sits down cross-legged on the bed and offers the gift to Jensen.

“Merry Christmas,” Jared says.

Jensen glances at the clock. It’s 12:03. “Not supposed to open gifts until we’re all together in front of the tree. Your mama said so,” he says.

“Yeah, well, I want you to open it now … while we’re alone,” Jared says.

Jensen sits up and takes the present. He slides the bow off and removes the paper. It’s a ring box. “Um, Jared.”

“Just open it, Jen.”

Jensen eases the lid open. Tucked into the folds of the box is a silver band with the open fretwork of a Celtic knot. Jensen doesn’t know exactly what it means, but it makes his heart skip a beat.

“I wanted to get you something that you would have with you all the time to remind you of how much you mean to me,” Jared says. He takes the ring from the box and holds it out to Jensen. “Will you wear it? Because I love you.”

Jensen can’t speak, so he just holds his hand out and nods. Jared puts the silver band onto the ring finger of Jensen’s left hand and kisses him. Jensen tells himself not to over think it. It’s not like an engagement ring or wedding ring or something, but still, still … “You do?” His voice startles himself.

“Absolutely, I do.”

“I, that …” Jensen struggles for the right words, but doesn’t know where to find them. His heart’s too full, and they’re all mixed up in there together. “I wasn’t expecting …”

“Love? That’s just not right. I’ll make sure you get plenty of it from now on.” Jared kisses him again but firmer this time, more insistent. His tongue sweeps across the seam of Jensen’s lips, slides under his upper lip, across his teeth, deep into his mouth, and as it retreats, Jared catches Jensen’s lower lip between his teeth, suckles it until Jensen moans into his mouth.

Jensen is breathless and wide-eyed for a moment. Jared grins, and heat rushes up the back of Jensen’s neck.

“I, um, I got you something too.”

“You didn’t have to do that.”

“It’s not much,” Jensen says. He gets up and goes to his own bag. “I couldn’t decide on a sweater or a CD,” he says over his shoulder. Jared laughs. Jensen takes a deep breath as he turns and hands Jared the box wrapped in silver paper with bright ornament graphics on it and a cascade of multi-colored curling ribbon.

“You didn’t have to get me anything,” Jared says. “I mean, I know you don’t make much at the bookstore.”

“Of course, I did. It’s Christmas.”

Jared has to stretch the ribbon that’s double-tied around the box because Jensen tied it tight just like his mama used to. Jared isn’t neat. He rips the paper away and drops it to the floor. Without pause, he tears the tape off that holds the flaps of the box down and pulls out packing material and tosses it to the floor as well. He looks confused for just a moment and then his hand disappears into the box, reemerges filled with black leather and steel chains.

Jared looks at Jensen with heat in his eyes. Dimples crease his cheeks as he looks back at the gift – wide leather wrist cuffs connected by heavy steel links.

“These are for me?” Jared asks.

“For us,” Jensen says. He takes one of the cuffs from Jared’s hand and turns it over. “See, these won’t bruise like the handcuffs. Besides, I wouldn’t want you to get in trouble for misuse of police department property.”

“How am going to wait till we get home?” Jared says.

Jensen glances at the headboard and then gives Jared a meaningful look.

Jared laughs. “No, Jen. No way am I going to explain to my mama how we broke the bed,” he says. “Besides, you’d wake everyone in the house.” He leans over and kisses Jensen. “I’m so glad old Mrs. Orme next door is practically deaf cause I love it when you’re loud.”

“You like them?” Jensen asks.

“Can’t wait to get home,” Jared says. “Never wished I could skip Christmas morning before.”

###

Jensen sat reading _The Shadow of the Wind_ with his feet up on the desk. Christmas was over and classes hadn’t started yet. He’d only had two customers all day since most students were still home for the holidays and Christmas shopping was over.

Bo lay snoring at his feet. He sipped cooling coffee and read or let his mind wander. Christmas Day with Jared’s family had gone well. There’d been only one dicey moment. Karen had aw’ed over the ring Jared gave him. He swore she’d had tears in her eyes, and he almost felt guilty as though he was pretending to be something he wasn’t. Then, he’d seen Jared’s grin and relaxed.

“And what did you get Jared?” she’d asked.

“Me? I, um ...”

“The new Pearl Jam box set,” Jared had said. “My favorite band.” He winked at Jensen.

“Oh,” Karen said. “Well, that’s nice.”

“It is,” Jared had said. “Jen’s not a mushy romantic like me.”

“Good for him,” Mike said with a grin. “You’re a big ol’ girl.”

Jensen smiled at the memory then of Jared and Mike play wrestling until Karen told them to take it outside.

He thought of the anticipation on the drive home. Jared’s hand big and warm on his thigh, knowing grins. They’d dropped their bags and presents just inside the door and rushed to the bedroom with one gift. As the memory returned, he could almost feel Jared kissing his wrists as he put the cuffs on him, securing them to the headboard, covering him in kisses and love bites, sucking him off, laving over his balls, working him open with his tongue before fucking him until his moans filled the room and he was writhing as he tipped over the edge into mindless pleasure. They’d held each other afterward kissing and talking far too late as Jared had work the next morning. It was his best Christmas ever.

Jensen twists the ring on his finger, his gaze unseeing out the front window of the shop as he relives those moments. A movement on the other side of the deserted street brings him back to the present.

There’s a man in jeans and a brown coat. He’s standing with his hands shoved into his pockets looking toward the shop. Jensen drops his feet to the floor and sits forward. The guy has dark hair, trimmed salt and pepper beard.

“No,” Jensen says. The guy is looking directly at him. Jensen jumps to his feet and rushes around the desk. A startled Bo scrambles to his feet and follows. Jensen throws the front door open, but there’s no one there. He steps onto the sidewalk and looks up and down the empty street. A woman comes out of the Hallmark store two doors down and walks away. Jensen jumps when Bo nudges his hand with his wet nose. Jensen looks around again but the man is gone.

Come on, he says to Bo and goes back inside. He hesitates with his hand on the door before turning the lock.


	9. Chapter 9

Jared is pacing back and forth across the front of the shop with his cell phone pressed to his ear. His hair, which he keeps combed back when he’s working, has fallen across his eyes. He sweeps it back with his hand. Jensen chews on a thumbnail.

“Okay, okay, yeah, thanks, Paul,” Jared says and clicks off his phone.

“He was out there,” Jensen says.

“Jensen, he wasn’t.”

“He was! I didn’t imagine it. I’m not crazy!”  At the sound of Jensen’s raised voice, Bo lifts his head and looks from one man to the other.

“No, of course not,” Jared says. He grips Jensen’s shoulders. “It happens to witnesses all the time. The person in the line-up who most resembles the perp gets fingered. The witness isn’t lying. The human mind tries to put together the puzzle, and that’s the answer it comes up with. Witness IDs are notoriously unreliable because of it. “

Jensen tries to shake off Jared’s hands. “No.”

“I’m sure there was a guy out there who looked a lot like Morgan, but I just talked to the warden before he talked to Paul. He hasn’t been released, Jen. It wasn’t him.”

Jensen slumps and leans back against the desk. There’s a sharp pain in his thumb, and he takes it from his lips without looking. It had been late afternoon and the shadows were growing. Now that he thinks about it, the guy had seemed a little heavier than Jeff, but Jensen hadn’t seen him in almost three years.

“I’m sorry, I freaked out,” Jensen says. “You were working and …”

“No,” Jared says. “Don’t ever hesitate to call me.” He hugs Jensen close, kisses the top of his head. Jared steps back and looks at him. “Okay?”

“Yeah, okay.”

“Good. Now, Paul said he’ll be here in fifteen to pick up Bo, so why don’t we go home, order a pizza, have a couple beers, watch a movie.”

“I should wait for Paul,” Jensen says. He feels stupid now, and he should be responsible, take care of the shop, and act like sane person.

“He said to just lock up,” Jared says. “Come on. It’s not like there are customers. Bo will be fine alone for a few minutes.”

“Yeah, okay.” He locks the register and puts the key in the drawer. Paul wasn’t exactly big on security, but there wasn’t much cash in the machine anyway. Jensen bends down and rubs Bo’s head. “Your dad will be here to get you in just a few, okay?”

The dog’s tail thumps on the floor, and Jared chuckles. He follows Jensen out, and Jensen stops to lock the deadbolt on the door. His thumb hurts, and he realizes that he’s torn the nail down below the quick. It’s bleeding.

“You all right?” Jared asks.

“Yeah, fine.” He shoves his hand in the pocket of his hoodie and heads for the car.

###

Jensen’s anthropology class is in an old theater on the south side of the Quad. It had been the university’s original auditorium, but now housed lecture classes and the occasional movie.

Seeing that the main floor was mostly filled and students were chatting loudly, he made his way to the balcony. He was surprised to find only a handful of students scattered across the space. He grinned when he saw a pony-tailed figure with his cowboy boots propped on the seat in front of him.

Feeling distinctly less anti-social, Jensen made his way down the row and plopped down next to Chris.

“This seat taken?” Jensen asks.

Chris grins. “Is now.”

Jensen puts his feet up on the seat in front of him and slouches down. “How’s your holiday?”

“Awesome,” Chris says. “Too much of my mama’s cookin’, too much beer with the guys … got a new laptop from Santa.”

“Santa?” Jensen laughs.

“Yeah,” Chris chuckles. “Can you believe my mom still puts presents under the tree from Santa?”

Jensen feels a little pang in his chest at that. He remembers how his mama used to do that even after he and his siblings knew there was no Santa. He bites his lip and nods.

“How about you?” Chris asks.

“It was good,” he says, and it’s not a lie. Overall, he’d had a great Christmas. “Sort of officially moved in with my boyfriend.” He side-eyes Chris to see his reaction, and Chris just nods. “Spent Christmas with his family. They’re really nice.”

Chris looks over at him. “That’s great,” he says. There’s some unspoken communication between them. Jensen feels like Chris is acknowledging the fact that Jensen has never spoken of his own family and understands what Jared’s family accepting him means. Maybe, he’s reading too much into the look.

“So what he’d get you for Christmas?” Chris says.

Jensen just holds up his left hand. The silver band reflects the auditorium lights.

“Wow,” Chris says. “Well that’s … commitment, huh?”

“Yeah,” Jensen says. “Yeah, it is.”

“That’s great. I’ve never … I mean, I’ve met some girls I really liked, but never met anyone that I thought I couldn’t live without, so … that’s great. So, what’d you get him?”

Jensen blushes and is saved from a lie by the professor tapping the microphone to get the class’s attention.

###

Forrester leans forward with his elbows on his desk. “So it’s been awhile. How have things been going?”

“Better. I thought.” Jensen runs his thumb along the upholstery and snags the broken nail on the fabric. He tries not to flinch, brings the wound to his mouth and presses the end of his tongue against it.

Forrester appears not to notice. “How so?”

“I, um, Jared and I, we’re living together,” Jensen says.

“Yes, you told me you were staying with him,” Forrester said, then his chin comes up and he takes a breath. “It’s more than that.”

Jensen nods. “I went home with him at Christmas, met his family.”

“How did that go?”

“Really well actually,” Jensen says. “They’re nice. They are completely cool with him being gay, and they’re happy about us.”

Forrester nods. “That’s great, right?”

“Yeah,” Jensen says. “Absolutely.”

“But?”

Jensen’s throat tightens. “I got a letter that Jeff may be released. I’m trying not to freak out about it.”

“But?”

“But the other day I saw this guy on the street outside the bookstore. I thought it was him. I was sure of it. I called Jared, and Jesus, I just …” He can still feel the panic pounding in his chest.

“But it wasn’t.”

“No, of course not.” He feels embarrassed and doesn’t meet the therapist’s gaze.

“What did Jared say?”

“That witnesses make mistakes like that all the time. He doesn’t think I’m crazy – just that I mistook a guy that resembles Jeff for him.”

“That doesn’t make you feel better?”

“I don’t know. I should have known it wasn’t him, and if I’m freaking out that easily now, how the fuck am I going to handle it if they let him go?”

Forrester takes off his glasses and lays them on his desk. “Jensen, what are you really afraid of?”

“What?”

If he gets out, why does that frighten you?

“He’ll come after me. He’ll want Jenny back.”

“And you don’t think you’ll be able to say no to him?”

“No! I, I don’t know. What he did to me before …” Jensen tries to find the words for it – the paralyzing passivity that had overtaken him and allowed Jeff to transform him.

“How was he able to do that do you think?”

Jensen knows how. They’ve talked about it before. He was a street kid, hungry and scared. “I was alone and vulnerable.”

“And now?”

“I have a job and school and Jared.”

Forrester leaned back in his chair. “You aren’t the same kid I met, Jensen. You know that, right?”

###

Jensen’s sitting on the couch in torn jeans and a Green Day t-shirt. He rubs his eyes. He’s having trouble focusing on his astronomy text book. It isn’t that he’s not interested. It’s just late. He hears keys rattle in the door and glances over at the clock. 10:49. He’s on his feet and at the door as it swings open.

Jared looks tired and surprised. He smiles and gives Jensen a quick kiss before he begins his nightly routine of emptying his pockets and locking his gun in the small safe.

“You weren’t waiting up for me, were you?” he asks.

“I was studying,” Jensen says. “Not that late anyway. I don’t have class until nine.”

“Feels late,” Jared says.

“Yeah,” Jensen says. “Well, you’ve been working the whole time.”

Jared nods. His eyes are already heavy.

“You want something to eat?” Jensen asks.

“Nah, thanks. Just gonna take a shower and crash.”

Jared goes into the bathroom and shuts the door. Jensen goes into the bedroom, strips off his clothes, and lies down. He ought to be able to drift off now. He should be asleep by the time Jared comes to bed, but he isn’t. His mind won’t calm. He has a short paper due on black holes, three stories to read and compare/contrast for their protagonists for American Short Story class, a couple chapters in Film Art class with study questions. He isn’t really worried about his homework. He knows it’s just his mind’s way of avoiding thinking about the real issue.

Jared comes in with just a towel wrapped around him. He drops it on the floor, turns off the light and stretches out on his back. Jensen rolls against him. Jared turns his head and gives him a minty kiss.

“Night, Jen,” he mumbles.

Jensen kisses him again, rises up and straddles Jared on his hands and knees. Jared lips are lax when Jensen kisses him.

“Can’t, darlin’. I’m beat,” Jared says.

“Sh, just lie there,” Jensen whispers. “You don’t have to do a thing.” When he reaches between them and gives Jared’s cock a gentle tug, it begins to fatten in his hand.

Jared chuckles. “Can’t believe it has the energy.”

“When has it not had the energy?”

“It’s you. Y’re a snake charmer.” He’s mumbling again, and Jensen pushes Jared’s legs apart. He stretches out between them, takes the thick base of Jared’s cock in his hand and licks over the head. Jared makes a pleased humming sound. Jensen knows Jared is so tired he could still fall asleep, so he takes the head between his lips and swallows him straight down. He feels Jared tense slightly. _He won’t fall asleep now_ , Jensen thinks. He pulls off and teases the slit before going back down.

Jared’s fingers sink into Jensen’s hair, fingertips rubbing across his scalp. When Jensen begins bobbing up on and down, Jared’s palm comes to rest on his head – not insistent or controlling, just encouraging. Jensen wants to get Jared off fast and hard, leave him completely relaxed and sated. Tired as he is, Jared’s hips begin to roll slightly, and Jensen is humping the mattress. The friction of his dick against the sheets slightly uncomfortable, but he can’t stop. He loves Jared, loves his cock. The taste of it, the feel of it, the way it fills him, gets Jensen so aroused. Jared’s body goes taut as a bow string just before his dick becomes impossibly hard and come gushes down Jensen’s throat.

Jensen moans. His hips are thrusting desperately against the bed as he swallows the last of Jared’s load and stills his movements on the oversensitive flesh. Jared’s fingertips slide over his scalp again.

“So good, darlin’,” Jared murmurs. “Love you.”

Jensen comes, filled with Jared, slicking the sheets. Their pleasure buzzes through them, between them. Jared’s fingers pet through Jensen’s hair, and Jensen’s mind is clear. He doesn’t feel the wet spot he’s lying on. He doesn’t think of black holes or William Faulkner or _The Maltese Falcon_. He doesn’t think of Jeff.

As Jared’s cock begins to soften in his mouth, he rests his head in the crease of Jared’s leg and hip and closes his eyes. He’s so at peace, so connected and safe. He drifts off with Jared soft flesh in his mouth warm and fulfilled and content.

###

Jensen awakes to the tug of Jared’s fingers carding through his hair. His cheek is still cradled against Jared’s groin, but his cock has slipped from Jensen’s mouth. It’s right there in front of his eyes though – thick and hard. Jensen is immediately turned on. He doesn’t want to suck it. He wants to ride it, to feel it filling him, have Jared come deep inside him, know it’s there all day.

“Hey,” Jared says.

“Hey,” Jensen replies and crawls up over him. He’s already reaching for the lube.

“There isn’t time,” Jared says. “Gotta go to work.”

“There is.” Jensen kisses him and clicks the cap on the lube open. He grins. “I’ll make it fast and dirty.” He slicks his fingers and pushes them inside himself, once, twice, and smears some up the length of Jared’s dick. Not too much, not too slippery, gotta make this quick.

“Jen, seriously …” His words are cut off as Jensen lines up and engulfs Jared’s cock. Jared groans and pushes his head back into the pillows. “Ah, fuck,” he says.

“Yeah,” Jensen agrees. He wastes no time, but begins moving, shoving Jared’s dick deep inside himself with every movement, and Jared starts to thrust up in time with him. Jared’s got his hands on Jensen’s hips and his heels digging into the mattress, hips snapping up.

“Fuck, holy fuck, Jen.” Jared’s hands jerk Jensen down hard on his cock as his body arches up off the bed. Jensen smiles in satisfaction watching Jared’s face, knowing that Jared is filling his ass full of come. Jared falls back on the mattress, and when he opens his eyes, he wraps a hand around Jensen’s aching dick and jerks him off in just a few strokes. Jensen comes with a cry, muscles clenching around Jared’s oversensitive cock hard enough to make him flinch. Jensen’s jizz paints Jared’s chest right up to his chin.

Jensen is panting as he leans over Jared with a smile. “Good morning,” he says.

Jared laughs. “Morning, darlin’. That’s what I call a good start to the day.”

“Yeah, right?”

###

“I like it when he ties me up or holds me down and fucks me,” Jensen says. He looks up to see if Forrester will be shocked.

He doesn’t appear to be. “Why do you think that is?”

“Maybe, Jeff was right and I like to be used,” he doesn’t really believe this. He wants to know what Forrester will say. As usual, he doesn’t say anything. He just asks another question.

“Do you feel used when Jared does it?”

“No,” Jensen says. “Of course not.”

“Of course not? How does he make you feel?”

“Safe. Jeff made me feel used. Jared makes me feel ...secure.” He shrugs.

Forrester nods. “Given that, what do you think the significance of you liking him to tie you up when you have sex is?”

“I don’t know.”

“Think about it.”

###

Jensen licks over Jared’s spent cock and looks up through his lashes. Jared’s fingers trail across his cheek. His thumb rubs over Jensen’s bottom lip, smearing a dab of come across it.

“My God, you’re beautiful,” Jared murmurs.

Jensen nuzzles his face into the thatch at the base of Jared’s cock. It’s softening, and he begins to lick it clean. He puts his whole focus into the task. Whether big and hard, pounding into him, or soft and vulnerable like this, he loves Jared’s cock. He settles between Jared’s legs, almost curled on his side.

“Do you like this?” Jensen asks.

“You holding me at night?” He sees Jared swallow. There’s something kind of dark, almost possessive, in Jared’s eyes. “Yeah, I do. I love that you take care of me like that.”

Jensen takes Jared’s flaccid cock into his mouth and lays his cheek on Jared’s groin. The light goes off and Jensen begins to float, his mind clear and calm.

###

“I think it’s about trust,” Jensen says. “Maybe, or it’s just me. I’m weird.”

Forrester raises an eyebrow. “Trust?”

“When I let Jeff be in control, he did things I didn’t like. He hurt me and changed me. Jared would never do that. It’s safe and that’s ...” Jensen taps his fingers on his thigh.

“It’s what?”    

“I think I internalized a lot of shame from my parents.” He crosses his ankle over his other knee and picks at the seam of his jeans. “I know it’s stupid. I mean, intellectually I know there’s nothing wrong with being gay. I know that what I am isn’t bad, but, I don’t know, maybe Jared in control allows me to feel like I’m not responsible, you know? I can just ... surrender and let go, and it’s safe with him. He takes care of me and it’s so ...”

Forrester doesn’t say anything. He just waits.

“It’s mind blowing and afterward I feel so ... right.”

###

Jared mutes the TV and turns toward him on the couch, one arm hooked around his bent knee.

“Jen, I need to ask you about something,” he says. “Lately, when we go to bed, you … It’s about this cockwarming thing.”

Jensen’s eyebrows fly up, and Jared looks so embarrassed, he almost laughs out loud.

Jared rolls his eyes. “I looked it up on the internet. It’s a bdsm thing, right?” Jared is picking at a loose thread on the hem of his sweat pants, hair falling over his eyes, and Jensen thinks that Jared blushes a little.

“Yeah,” Jensen says. He’s looked on the internet too because he’s trying to understand this dynamic between them.

Jared looks up. “You don’t have to do that, you know?”

“I won’t, I mean, if you don’t want me to, if you don’t like it. I thought you liked it, and I like doing it for you, making you feel good, that I’m yours, no one else’s.” Jensen realizes he’s babbling and shuts up.

“No, no,” Jared says. “It isn’t that. I do like it. I just … if you think you have to or you ever don’t want to.”

“I know I don’t have to,” Jensen says. He places his hand on Jared’s knee. “I started it remember? I do like it. A lot. It makes me feel really connected to you and calm and … stuff doesn’t bother me.”

“Okay, good,” Jared says with a smile.

“So, you like it?” Jensen says.

Jared reaches out and cups his cheek. “Yeah, I do. Like you said, I love the connection. I love ...”

“What? It’s okay. Tell me.”

“The trust you put in me. After everything you’ve been through, the way you just hand yourself over to me like a gift. It’s incredibly hot. I can’t even explain how it makes me feel.” Jared takes Jensen’s face in his hands and kisses him. “I love taking care of you, being responsible for you.”

“Me too.”

“But you have to know – the S and M part – I won’t hurt you. I could never hurt you.”

“It’s not about that. I’m not into pain.”

“Okay, I just want to make sure we’re on the same page.”

“Yeah, I think we totally are.”

###

“Jen, we need to talk.”  Jared had been unusually quiet since he got home, and Jensen had chalked it up to the long hours. He’s just emerged from the bathroom in sleep pants and a t-shirt. His hair is still damp.

Jensen feels his stomach drop and he sits down on the edge of the sofa. “What about?”

Jared pulls the chair closer and sits down facing him. “The judge has thrown out the questionable evidence against Morgan.”

“What does that mean? Will there be a retrial?” Jensen’s hands are squeezed into fists on his knees.

Jared lays a hand over Jensen’s left fist. “No, the prosecutor doesn’t feel that he can make a case without that evidence. He’s not going to request a retrial.”

Jensen jumps to his feet and walks across the room, when he turns around his throat is so tight he can barely force the words out. “Who did this, Jared? Who screwed up the evidence?” He’s furious. The force of all the apprehension and uncertainty of the past few weeks is behind it.

Jared rises and steps toward him. “We don’t know. There’s an investigation to see where the chain of evidence might have been compromised.” A muscle jumps in Jared’s jaw. “But the truth is, we may never know.”

Jensen’s eyes sting. He’s so angry he’s on the verge of tears. “So he just gets to go free. That’s just ... How long?”

“A few days for the paperwork to go through,” Jared says.

“And then I’m fair game for him,” Jensen says.

“Jen, hey, I know I can’t be with you every minute, but if he harasses you or threatens you, we’ll get a restraining order, all right?”

Jensen doesn’t look up, and Jared grasps his arms.

“Hey, look at me. I’m not going to let anything happen to you. You know that, right?” Jensen nods, and Jared pulls him into his arms. “It’s going to be okay, darlin’.”

 


	10. Chapter 10

Jensen leans back in his chair and his eyes scan the sea of students gathered in the student center lounge. Dozens of them are grouped around tables covered in books, laptops and fast food containers. Some are slouched on couches clustered around two large screen TVs. One displays a soap opera with a pretty boy and girl kissing. Another shows Maury Povich. Other students are moving in and out of the room through three sets of double doors. A few are leaning against the wall, backpacks on their shoulder, talking or focused on cell phone screens.

“Jensen, dude, are you even listening to me?”

“What? Sorry, man,” he mumbles to Chris.

Chris leans forward and rests his elbows on the table. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, sure,” he says, but he scans the room again.

“What’s up with you? You have been somewhere else the past few days and it ain’t getting better.”

Jensen realizes he’s chewing on a nail and forces his hand to his lap. “I know it’s paranoid, but I have this ex that got out of jail recently.”

Chris’s eyes widened. “And you think he’s stalking you?”

“No. I mean, I haven’t seen him.”

“But you think he will.”

“Yeah.” Jensen takes a drink of Coke.

“He hit you?”

“No, it wasn’t like that. He was just really controlling, and I was young and stupid.” Jensen puts his elbows on the table, so he and Chris are just inches apart. “He’s not going to just let me go.”

“You think he’d hurt you?”

“Define hurt.”

“He’s why you’re with the cop?” Chris is tapping his pen on the table, and Jensen has to resist the urge to reach out and still his hand.

“He’s how I met the cop.”

“You’re why he was in jail?”

Jensen nods, and Chris leans back in chair. He doesn’t speak for moment. “I imagine he has to be a little bit angry about that,” Chris says.

“I don’t know.” Jensen doesn’t want to admit that he wasn’t the one who called the cops. He’s still ashamed of himself for letting Jeff do the things he did to him. “Maybe.”

“So what’s this asshole look like?” Chris asks.

“What’s he look like?”

“Yeah, so I can keep an eye out for him too. I don’t cotton to people messing with my friends.”

Jensen can’t help but grin. “Thanks, man, for taking it seriously.”

“Seriously? He tries anything, I’ll show you serious. Between the two of us, we could fuck him up.” Chris grins. “And then your boyfriend could arrest us all.”

###

A light, warm breeze blows in through the open door of the bookstore, and a steady stream of customers has stepped over Bo stretched across the doorway. Jensen had intended to work on his American Lit paper but had been interrupted to many times to continue trying.

He’d known a couple of the customers as fellow students from his fall classes. The chatted about their spring classes, compared professors, said _See ya ‘round_ _._ It was relaxed and easy, and he’s smiling as he rings up a psych book and some paperback novels for a girl with blue hair.

“Have you ever been to the Red Door?” she asks.

He’s heard of it, about as close to punk bar as you’d get around there. “No, sorry,” he says.

“You should,” she says. Her heavily lined lids blink over bright blue eyes. “It’s a lot of fun and the bands are, well, a lot of the bands are great. I usually go on Wednesday’s because I have late class on Thursday, and Fridays are just crazy.” Her words come out in a gush. She pulls up short. “My name’s Skye, but the way.”

“Thanks, Skye,” Jensen said, “for asking. Just so there’s no misunderstanding – I have a boyfriend.”

“Oh,” she says. “Sure, um, well you should still come and bring your boyfriend.”

Jensen smiles as he puts her books in a bag. “Thanks, but I don’t think it’s his kind of place.”

“Okay, well thanks,” she says. Jensen is still scribbling out her receipt as she takes her bag and leaves.

“I’d be happy to take you to the Red Door, if your boyfriend’s a stick in the mud.”

Jensen looks up into the gray eyes of Matt who’s smiling flirtatiously. Jensen laughs.

“He isn’t,” Jensen says. “Believe me.” Matt’s in about once a week, and they have an easy, casual flirtation that they both understand will go nowhere.

Matt glances at the doorway the girl had disappeared through. “Poor kid,” he says. “Everyone crushes on you, don’t they?”

Jensen rolls his eyes. “They do not.” He takes the book Matt had lays on the desk and starts to ring it up.

“No? He’s sure interested.”

Jensen follows his gaze through the front window, and there across the street almost where he’d seen the guy at Christmas is Jeff. It’s no mistake this time. Jensen’s breath catches in his throat.

“Jensen, are you okay?”

“Yeah, I ...” His throat is so tight he can barely force the words out. “He’s my ex.”

“Oh, is that a problem?”

“No!” He isn’t thinking. He’s moving, around the desk and toward the door. His heart’s pounding, and he barely hears Matt call his name as he leaps over Bo and runs out the door. He’s headed straight for Jeff who’s waiting with a tight smile on his face. Fists clenched, Jensen doesn’t even look for traffic before stepping into the street. With a squeal of tires, his path is cut off by silver sedan. The driver’s side door flies open and Jared jumps out with surprising agility. Jensen’s still moving forward when Jared steps in front of him and stops him with palms flat on Jensen’s chest.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” he demands.

“It’s Jeff!”

“Yeah, I can see that!” He has a hold of Jensen’s arms, but Jensen manages to swing them halfway around. His eyes scan the empty sidewalk.

“He’s gone!” Jensen tries to pull away from Jared, but Jared uses some cop move to swing him around and shove him against the unmarked cruiser.

“Stop it!” he shouts. Jensen slouches against the car, and Jared lets go of him. “Jesus fucking Christ.”  He rakes his hair back with his right hand. “What was the fucking plan here?”

The anger has slipped away, and he shakes his head.” I don’t know.”

Jared huffs out a breath. “Okay.” He shuts the car door and takes Jensen by the shoulder, urges him back toward the store. “Come on,” he says quietly. Jared’s arm slips around his shoulders as they walk to the store. Bo is standing beside Matt inside. The dog’s tail swings tentatively, and he noses at Jensen’s hand. Jensen rubs his ears.

“I’m sorry,” he says to no one in particular. He sees a look go between Matt and Jared.

“Nothing to apologize for,” Matt says. “I left a five on the desk for the book.”

“Let me get your change,” Jensen says.

“Don’t worry about it.”

“No,” Jensen insists. He wants things to feel normal. He needs to do this. He rings up Matt’s book. “It’s four, eighty-five.”

“See what’s 15 cents between friends,” Matt says.

Jensen gives him his change. “Thanks.”

“Welcome.” Matt slips the book into his backpack. As he turns to leave, he’s a step too close to Jared, looks up, and Jared steps back.

“Sorry,” Jared says. His posture is still stiff, and Jensen knows he’s feeling the same after effects of the adrenaline rush.

“No problem. I’m Matt. You must be the boyfriend.”

Jared cocked an eyebrow. “Yeah, I suppose so. Jared.” They shake hands.

“Nice to meet you,” Matt says. “Take care.” He glances pointedly at Jensen.

“Yeah, I will,” Jared says.

There’s silence as Matt leaves. Jared toes the doorstop from beneath the edge of the door and lets it swing shut.

“You okay?” he asks.

Jensen drops into the office chair and nods. “Yeah, I guess so. I’m sorry. I just ... I wasn’t thinking. I was so mad ...”

“Maybe that’s a good thing,” Jared says.

“You think?”

“You weren’t passive or frightened. He may see you differently – not so easily manipulated, not a victim.”

“You think he’ll back off?”

“Let’s hope.”

###

Jensen tightens his arm over Jared’s chest and presses his face into the curve of his neck. They’d made love with quiet urgency and kissed for a long time after. They should both be asleep by now, but it wasn’t coming.

“What now?” Jensen asks.

“Hm?”

“Today, it wasn’t enough to get a restraining order was it?” He feels Jared sigh.

“No, probably not. He didn’t try to talk to you or anything. He could argue that it was just coincidence that he saw you there. You approached him.”

Jensen rolls onto his back and scrubs his hands over his face. “I know it was probably stupid. I was just so angry.”

Jared rolls onto his side and props himself on an elbow. He rests his palm flat on Jensen’s chest. “It’s okay. You have every right to be angry and you were surprised, but if you see him again, you need to stay away from him. Don’t give him any ammunition to use against you in court. If it comes to a restraining order, which I hope it doesn’t, we need to be holding all the cards.”

“I know.” Jensen lays his hand over Jared’s. “But you don’t really believe a restraining order would stop him if he’s stalking me.”

Jared bites his lip. “No. They rarely stop anything. They’re a tool, a gamble, you know. Sometimes they allow us to make an arrest before someone gets hurt. Hopefully that isn’t a possibility. He’s never been violent toward you ... has he?”

“No. Not ... no, he hasn’t. I don’t think that’s what he wants. He just wants Jenny back.”

“Yeah, I hope your anger shows him that you aren’t a victim anymore.”

“Me too.”

Jared cups his cheek and kisses him. “But you’re still worried.”

“Sure, he was obsessed. I don’t think that’s ended.”

Jared nods. “We need to get some sleep.”

“Yeah, would you ...” He presses on Jared’s shoulder to get him to lay back, and he goes to his knees. Jared spreads his legs, and Jensen nestles between them. It’s safe here and reassuring. Jensen’s mind is clear and peaceful.

###

“So how do you think you did?” Sandy asks as she reaches for another piece of pizza. They’d had an American Lit exam that morning, and a group of them had walked to a nearby pizza joint for lunch afterward. Jensen knew Sandy and Chris pretty well, but the others Jeremy, Angela, and Erin he’d just met through the class.

Jensen shrugs. “I don’t know.” He actually thought he’d done okay for most part, but he’d had a bit of a brain freeze on one essay question. He was hoping he’d BSed his way through it.

“Pfft, he always aces lit exams,” Chris says.

“I don’t,” Jensen replies.

“Dude, you fucking do,” Chris says before shoving pizza into his mouth.

Jensen doesn’t bother protesting because he usually does. The server sets down another pitcher of beer, and Jensen starts refilling glasses.

“No more for me, thanks,” Erin says. “I have to study for a human sexuality test.”

“You know ...” Jeremy says and then stops himself. They all start laughing.

“Thanks, but there’s no labs in this class, and I don’t need help studying,” Erin says with an eye roll.

“I thought about taking that,” Angela says. “Is it interesting?”

“Yeah, you know it is,” Erin replies. “I mean, I really thought I was pretty knowledgeable, but I’ve learned some stuff, and seriously, if they really wanted to cut down on teen pregnancy, they’d show 12-year-olds video of a woman giving birth. Terrifying.” She did an exaggerated shudder.

“No shit?” Chris says. “They showed that?”

“Yeah, and it looks like something out of aliens. Yikes! I may start doubling up on birth control.”

“Any kinky stuff?” Jeremy asks.

“Not that we’ve talked about in class,” Erin replies. She turns to the server who was walking by. “Hey, can I get a Coke?” She turns back to the group. “So many people are uninformed about mainstream sexuality and biology that the prof has stuck to that, but there’s some stuff in the book. I’ve kind of looked through it a little.” She shrugs. “There’s a lot of cross over with psychology though, you know?”

“What like only crazy people like sex that isn’t mainstream?”  Jensen asks.

“Well, not exactly, but it’s our experiences that form our likes and dislikes of most stuff, don’t you think?” she says.

“Wait, by ‘outside the mainstream’ what are we referring to here?” Chris asks.

“Yeah, are you talking about homosexuality or sado-masochism?” Angela says.

“No, no, not being gay,” Erin says. “That’s not deviant. I mean like BDSM and stuff.”

“I don’t know how deviant that is,” Chris says. “Lots of people play around with bondage.”

“Sure, but there’s a difference between playing around with something and having it be a serious component of your sexuality, don’t you think? For instance, being tied up – for some it’s a fun change, just experimentation, for others it’s necessary component.”

My ex and I played around with it, Angela says.

Jeremy gags and coughs. Chris slaps him on the back. “Sorry, swallowed wrong,” Jeremy says.

Angela gives him the stink eye. “I didn’t like it. It wasn’t comfortable,” she says.

“Did you trust him?” Jensen asks.

She tips her head, considering. “No, not so much I guess. Sometimes, he would try to push things in a way I didn’t like.”

Jensen nods. “How could he expect you to get into that?”

She leans on the table toward Jensen. Chris is in between them, and she is practically leaning over his lap. “See, I tried to tell him that, you know, that it got harder to relax and enjoy myself every time he went too far, and he’d act like he understood, but then he’d turn around and do it again when I, you know, when we were in bed.”

Jensen nods. “It’s good you got away from him. He didn’t respect you.”

“He was an asshole,” Chris says.

Angela’s head turns toward him as though she’s forgotten he was there, and her eyes light up. “Yeah,” she says with a nod.

Erin catches Jensen’s eye, and they exchange grins. “I need to get to the library,” she says.

Angela blinks as though waking from a dream and leans back in her chair. “I better go with you. I need to pick up that book for my art history class.” The girls get cash from their wallets to cover their share of the check and put it on the table. Angela turns to Chris. “I’m probably going to stop by Hoerner’s for a beer tonight. Maybe I’ll see you there?”

“Yeah, maybe,” Chris says, and Jensen thinks he sees a blush rising up his friend’s neck.

The guys finish off the pitcher of beer when the girls leave and talk football while waiting for their change from the server. Chris and Jensen part ways with Jeremy at the sidewalk and head toward the south end of campus where Chris will head to work at the video store and Jensen will continue home.

“So Angela,” Jensen says.

Chris side-eyes him. “Yeah, you think?”

“She seems pretty cool. Kind of quirky.”

“Quirky?”

“Yeah, I’ve seen the girls you look at. Not the cheerleaders,” Jensen says. “You go for interesting girls, quirky.”

“Yeah,” Chris says. “I guess so. She is kind of, huh?”

“Yeah, so going to Hoerner’s tonight?”

“Yeah, maybe,” Chris says. They’ve reached the corner of Main and Price. “See ya tomorrow, man.”

“Have fun tonight,” Jensen says.

Chris grins and walks backward a few steps. “Yeah, why not.”

Jensen continues down Price Street toward Broadview. He’s got a bit of buzz from the beer and the relaxed lunch with friends. He always feels comfortable when Chris is around even if he doesn’t know the other students well. Jeremy and Angela seem okay, and Erin is really bright. He loves being in class with her. She has great insights into the texts they’ve been reading. Sandy seemed unusually quiet. Jensen crosses the Broadview and as usual cuts through the alley between Randall’s Furniture Store and the bank.

The afternoon is warmer than he’d expected, and the shade of the narrow alley is welcome. Brick walls rise three-stories on each side of him, barely wide enough for a car to pass, bare of trash cans or dumpsters, but there was a Buick Century parked about halfway down that forces Jensen to walk close to the wall in order to squeeze by. Must be someone from the bank, but he doesn’t see anyone around. He twists slightly sideways trying to prevent his backpack from scraping the side of the black vehicle.

A motion in the corner of his eye catches his attention just before he’s jerked backward into a doorway. He doesn’t have to see who it was to know, and he struggles, driving his elbow backward. He hears a grunt and is thrown forward. His forehead hits the molding above the sedan’s driver’s side door, and he falls to his knees before everything goes black.

###

He’s conscious first of the pain, a sharp, throbbing in his head. He hears himself groan. His arms are pulled above his head.

“Don’t bother playing possum. I know you’re awake, Jenny.”

Jensen opens his eyes, but it’s dark. He thinks for a moment that the blow to the head blinded him, and he starts to panic. But, no, he can feel cloth covering his eyes, and the faintest light filters in low on the left side. His heart is pounding. It feels like a small trapped animal in the cage of his ribs.

“It’s so good to have you back, baby.” Jensen freezes as a hand comes to rest on his stomach. “You missed daddy, didn’t you?” The hand, Jeff’s left hand, pushes Jensen’s shirt up, slides across his ribs.

“No!” Jensen says. He begins to struggle against the restraints, but the movement causes an explosion of pain in his head that makes his stomach churn. He freezes and whimpers.

“Sh, I know, baby. I know you’ve missed me too.” The hand continues to slide up under his shirt, and Jensen knows where it’s going.

“No, no, no, no,” falls from his lips. Panic is gripping him as Jeff’s fingers wrap around a nipple, twisting and pulling.

“Such a pretty thing, Jenny.” The fingers move to the other nipple, pinch hard enough to make him wince. Jeff uses the other hand to ruck is shirt up. “Look at you. Miss your pretty tits, don’t you? I do, but don’t worry, baby. We’ll fix you back up. Make you pretty for daddy.”

Jensen’s arms pull steadily at the restraints. He’s trembling, panting through parted lips, and Jeff keeps up a steady stream of words that make Jensen want to crawl into a deep, dark hole. He hears the jangle of Jeff’s belt buckle, the metallic slip of his zipper.

“Can’t wait to get inside that tight pussy,” Jeff groans. “You didn’t let that big cop stretch it out did you, baby? Huh?” He twists the nub between his fingers hard enough to make Jensen’s eyes sting beneath the blindfold. “Gonna make you gag on my cock.”

Jensen hears the wet slap of skin on skin as Jeff jacks his dick. “I know how much you like it. Gonna fill you up at both ends, load after load, just like that night. It’s what you’d been waiting for, all those cocks.” Slap, slap, and Jeff’s voice is getting breathy as he nears climax. “All that come in you and on you, my little come slut, but I’m not taking chances this time, baby. Nothing public. Just you and me. Gonna get you out of those clothes and fuck you till you can’t walk. Collar you and put you on your knees like the bitch you are. Ugh ...”

The fingers tighten on his nipple and stripes of come fall hot across his stomach and chest. The hand goes flat on his chest for a moment, but Jensen doesn’t notice. He’s somewhere else, somewhere in his head, but his body is still tense, adrenaline flooding his bloodstream. A finger scoops come off his chest and pushes between his lips. It hits his tongue, slick and bitter, and he bites down hard, tastes the salty heat of blood.

Jeff roars and jerks his hand away. “You fucking bitch,” he growls. “Fuck!”

Jensen is hyper-aware. Here’s every rustle of Jeff’s movement. The clang of a boot kicking metal, the slam of a fist. “I know what’s happened! He’s brainwashed you! Him and that fucking shrink! Fuck!”

He hears Jeff panting. When he speaks again, his voice is calmer. “It’s okay, baby. It’s okay. I don’t blame you, Jenny. I know it wasn’t you. It’ll just take time for you to come around. That’s all. You’ll settle back in with time. We’ve got plenty of time, baby.”

 


	11. Chapter 11

**Pairing:** J2, Jensen/JDM, Jensen/OMCs,   
**Summary:** Jensen is making a life with Jared and going to college, but the abusive Jeff Morgan is set to be released from jail.   
**Warnings:** Explicit sex, non-con, bondage, abuse.  
 **Word count:** ~3,700

Jensen fights the urge to gag against the taste of blood and come, takes a deep breath through his nose and forces himself to swallow.

“Jeff, Jeff, I’m sorry, he gasps. You’re right. He, the cop said I belong to him now. He won’t let me go. He’ll find you. Send you back to jail. I’m not worth it.”

He lies still and listens. All he can hear is the heaving breaths that Jeff is pulling in. Then there’s a rustle and footsteps approach. Jensen tenses but tries not to let it show. Fingers run through his hair.

“Of course, you’re worth it, baby, Jeff says. All the time I took with you, making you perfect, drawing out your true nature.”

“But he’ll find us,” Jensen says. “He won’t stop.”

“Don’t worry,” Jeff says as he continues to stroke Jensen’s hair. “I have plans. He’ll never find us.”

Jensen trembles. “How do you know? You’re sure?”

“I’m sure, Jenny.” Jeff’s hand moves downward, strokes his cheek. His thumb rubs back and forth over Jensen’s bottom lip, slips inside, pressing against his tongue. It pushes farther in, and Jensen closes his lips around it. Sucks and moans.

“That’s better, Jenny, isn’t it? Huh?” Jeff fucks his thumb in and out of Jensen’s mouth, and Jensen swirls his tongue around it. “Yeah, look at those cock sucking lips. God you are beautiful, baby. You like that, don’t you? Want some cock?” Jensen moans and nods. Jeff’s other hand covers Jensen’s dick and massages it through his jeans. “I’m not feeling it, baby.”

Jensen’s mind goes blank. He is two points of contact and friction, mouth filled, cock stimulated. Jensen sucks harder and rolls his hips as his dick fattens.

“That’s right,” Jeff murmurs. “That’s my Jenny, my little whore.” Jeff’s hand grips Jensen’s hard cock through the fabric, and Jensen’s hips buck. “Fuck yeah, you want daddy’s cock, don’t you, baby girl?”

Jensen whines around Jeff’s thumb and thrusts up into his hand. Jeff pulls his thumb from Jensen’s mouth with a pop, and the hand leaves his crotch. He lies there panting as Jeff tugs at the ropes binding his ankles and then those on his wrists. As soon as Jensen’s limbs are free, Jeff drags him off the table, and Jensen goes to his knees. Impact with the concrete floor reverberates through his body and sends pain shooting up his legs. With the blindfold still in place, he’s disoriented and almost falls over but for Jeff’s hand gripping his hair. He hears Jeff’s zipper again and the soft, slick head of his cock slides over Jensen’s lips.

“Open up, baby,” Jeff growls. Jensen does, and Jeff pushes in deep with a groan. “Aw, yeah, right where you belong. Suck it, Jenny.” Jeff rolls his hips, fucking into Jensen’s throat. It’s so familiar – the taste and smell and feel of it. Jensen’s cock twitches.

He tips his head forward as he deep throats. His face rubs slightly against Jeff’s belly, pushing the blindfold up just a little. He does it again on the next downward stroke, and the there’s a thin slice of light below the cloth. He sees skin, curly hair, concrete, the toes of Jeff’s boots. Another rub and slide of cloth, and Jensen sees metal shelving in the corner of his eye, paint cans, a wrench, and a length of pipe.

Both of Jeff’s hands are gripping Jensen’s head, and he’s fucking hard and fast into Jensen’s mouth. Even with Jensen’s experience, it hurts, and it’s all he can do to keep from gagging. Tears are streaming from the corners of his eyes when Jeff shoves in deep and holds him there, cock twitching and come shooting down Jensen’s throat, filling his mouth, and seeping from the corners.

Jensen can’t breathe. He starts to feel lightheaded. Jeff lets his dick slip from Jensen’s mouth and pulls the blindfold off. The fingers of one hand are still gripping Jensen’s hair. The others trace his aching jaw and stinging lips.

“That’s my Jenny. All pretty and content when you’re used.” He lets his hand drop from Jensen’s face and his fingers from his hair. Jensen drops his head, seems to sink down, but he spots the items on the nearby shelf. The pipe is in his hand and he’s rising, but his knees are stiff and sharp pain shoots through the left one, and he stumbles as he brings his arm up. The blow only glances off Jeff’s temple.

Pain explodes in his cheekbone where Jeff’s fist lands a blow, but Jensen moves back in swinging. He hears a woof of air leave Jeff’s lungs, but isn’t prepared for the fist that comes up under his jaw. Jeff grabs his hair and uses the momentum of Jensen’s stumble to drag him back to his knees. Jeff’s knuckles connect with Jensen’s nose this time and he hears the crunch of cartilage breaking, blood gushes down his face.

“You fucking pathetic whore, Jeff shouts. I tried to make you something special and what do I get? Gratitude?” He’s panting with exertion, and he uses his grip on Jensen’s hair to shake him. “You think you can do okay without me? Huh? See how your cop likes you without that pretty face.” Jeff hits him again, and Jensen cries out.

“Don’t move!” someone shouts.

Jeff grips Jensen’s hair hard enough for it to feel as though it’s tearing his scalp. Jeff laughs. He pulls Jensen to his feet and holds him in front of his body. His arm goes around Jensen’s waist like a vice, and there in front of Jensen is Jared with a gun trained on them.

“I know you won’t take a chance of shooting your slut,” Jeff says.

A muscle jumps in Jared’s jaw. “Let him go,” he says.

“I don’t think so,” Jeff replies. “That’s my come on his face. He still sucks my dick with such enthusiasm.”

Jared meets Jensen’s gaze, and Jensen silently begs him to not believe Jeff. Jared looks away.

“Why would you want this used, broken little whore now?” Jeff says. Jensen can only imagine what he looks like, face swollen and covered in blood and come.

“It’s my duty to serve and protect.”

Jeff scoffs. “Well, aren’t you Dudley Do-Right?”

“Let him go, and I’ll let you walk out of here alive,” Jared says.

“In handcuffs? I don’t think so,” Jeff answers. “I’ll walk out of here with my bitch.”

“No,” Jared says. “You won’t. I didn’t call for back up. Let him go, and I’ll let you disappear.”

Jensen feels Jeff hesitate.

“Like you said, he’s not so pretty anymore,” Jared says. “You don’t really want him now either, do you?” Jared’s voice is steady, without emotion, and he doesn’t look at Jensen.

Jeff shifts, arm loosening and then tightening again around Jensen.

“There are lots of other pretty whores out there for you to train,” Jared says.

Jeff’s arm withdraws, and Jensen is shoved forward. His left knee gives out, and he goes down, tries to catch himself with his hands, but most of his weight lands on the already weakened knee. He cries out and rolls onto his back, scoots away from Jeff on his rear.

“Get on your knees,” Jared says to Jeff.

Jeff’s mouth drops open. “You said …”

“What? That I’d let you go?” Jared scoffs. “So you could come after Jen again or do the same thing to some other kid? I don’t think so.”

“No, no, I won’t,” Jeff says.

“I lied anyway. Back up is on the way. Now, get on your knees and put your hands behind your head,” Jared says. He takes a step forward, gun trained on Jeff. Jensen can see it above him. He’s practically leaning against Jared’s legs.

Jeff drops to his knees and puts his hands behind his head. He looks furious. His eyes fix on Jensen.

“You filthy whore,” he says. “When I get out …”

The report of the gun is loud in the enclosed space. Jeff looks surprised. There’s a hole in the center of his forehead, and his eyes go blank before he falls sideways and back.

“You won’t be getting out of jail,” Jared says.

The moment seems to stretch. Jensen’s ears are still ringing from the shot. Jeff’s just lying there, gore splattered across the shelves and cans of paint and stripper. Jensen’s having trouble processing what he sees. He doesn’t breathe until Jared grasps his arm and pulls him up.

“Can you walk?” Jared asks. “Jen!”  he says sharply when Jensen doesn’t respond. Jensen takes a shuddering breath and looks at Jared with wide eyes. “Can you walk?”

Jensen shakes his head. “My knee.”

“Okay.” Jared hooks an arm around Jensen’s waist and supports his weight as Jensen uses his right leg to propel himself. They make their way out of what turns out to be an abandoned factory. Jared gets him into his unmarked cruiser. “Put your seatbelt on,” Jared says and slams the door shut. Jensen swallows a nervous laugh, and Jared gets in the driver’s side.

“What’s funny?” Jared asks as he starts the car.

Nothing, I just …” He suddenly feels numb. He’s not afraid anymore, but he sure as hell isn’t relieved. “He’s dead.”

“Yeah,” Jared says calmly as he weaves his way through back streets. “Listen, okay, this is important. I’m going to take you to the emergency room. It’s important that we’re on the same page here because I’m not going to be able to stay with you.”

“But you need to listen to me, Jared. You need to understand …”

“There’s no time for that now,” Jared said. He sounds angry, so Jensen shut up. “You were walking home from class and someone jumped you from behind in the alley by our building. Got it? You didn’t see who it was.” Jared glanced over at him. “Got it?”

Jensen nodded.

 

###

Everything seems to speed up in the ER. People are crowded around him. He can’t see much but pastel scrubs, flashes of arms and faces. His head throbs, and it feels like someone is sticking a knife in his left knee. He struggles weakly.

“Lie still,” a man says.

“What’s your name?” a woman asks.

“Jensen.”

“Jensen Ackles. He may have a concussion. He wasn’t making much sense in the car.” Jensen knows the voice. It’s Jared. He looks around but can only see the top of Jared’s head above the crowd around him.

“What happened, officer?”

“I don’t know for sure. Mugging, I think.”

“Jared,” Jensen says. He feels like he’s shouting but he can barely hear himself over the bustle and voices of the medical team.

“Next of kin?”

“I’ll inform them,” Jared says.

“I need to fill out a report. I’ll check back in,” Jared says.

“No!” Jensen says. He starts to thrash. The pain doesn’t matter. He has to tell Jared what happened. He has to explain.

“Hold him down.”

“Calm down, Mr. Ackles.”

“Get the damned IV in.”

###

He feels fine. Really calm, serene even. He shifts, and oh, his leg hurts. His face feels funny. He opens his eyes, but something isn’t right. He can only see the sheets beside his cheek. He turns his head, but still he can only see in one eye. He jerks awake.

“Hey, Jen.” The voice is low and gentle. The mattress beside him dips and a warm hand envelopes his. He can’t see who it is for sure. It sounds like Jared, but he’s on Jensen’s blind side. He turns his head, and it aches. He lifts his hand to his cheek and feels gauze. “It’s okay. Your eye’s swollen shut. You’ve got a cut on your cheek.”

“Jared?” He turns enough to see him. He’s there. His hair is a wild, hanging loose around his face, and he’s dressed in a Henley and jeans.

“Hey, darlin’.” He smiles.

Jensen’s breath hitches in his throat. I’m sorry.

“You’ve got nothin’ to be sorry for, Jen. You fought. He wouldn’t have hurt you if you hadn’t.” Jared raises Jensen’s hand and presses his lips to Jensen’s fingers. “You’re going to be okay. You need surgery on your knee, but the doctor says with some physical therapy, it will be fine.”

“How do I look?”

“Like you went 10 rounds with the Hulk, but when the swelling goes down, you’ll be just as gorgeous as ever.” Jared smiles, but Jensen feels tears stinging his eyes. Jared’s smile fades. “I’m sorry, Jen. I was supposed to protect you.”

“It’s not your fault,” Jensen says.

“Yeah, it kind of is, but …” Jared takes a deep breath. “You remember our story, right? You were attacked in the alley behind our building. That’s where I found you. You didn’t see the attacker.”

Jensen shakes his head in confusion. “I don’t understand. He ...”

“That’s the story, Jen. You’re safe now. I made sure.”

Even though he knows, Jensen asks, “Jared, what did you do?”

“Found you, brought you to the hospital.” The look he gives Jensen stops any questions or disagreement. “We can talk when you get home. Okay?”

“Home?”

Jared looks like he’s about to cry. “You want to come home, don’t you? With me?”

Jensen almost sobs. “Yeah, I want to come home.”

###

Jensen swings himself forward on his crutches one last time before the door to the apartment. When he’d left the hospital, he’d huffed at having to take a wheelchair to the front door, now he wished he’d had one for about the last twenty feet of hallway. He drops his head and pants shallowly as Jared unlocks the door.

“You okay?” Jared asks before opening the door.

“Yeah, fine,” Jensen says.

Jared swings the door open and goes in ahead of him. Jensen concentrates on just making it to the couch, but he is barely through the doorway when there’s a shout of “Welcome home!” His head comes up, and he looks around in bewilderment at the faces scattered throughout the dining area – Chris and Angela, Chad, Sandy and Aldis, Matt, Paul, Jared’s sister Meg, and a tall girl with a blond pageboy wearing a retro red and black shift who looks familiar, and then she smiles. It’s Tina, and Jensen grins. There’s a cake with ‘Welcome home, Jensen’ in green icing across it sitting in the center of the table.

His vision goes blurry. “Thank you,” he murmurs. Something wet nudges at his hand, and he looks down to find Bo wagging furiously in front of him. He wedges the crutch tighter under his arm so he can rub the dog’s ears. He wobbles a little, and Jared takes his elbow.

“Here, let’s you get you over to the couch,” Jared says.

He gets settled on the sofa with his left leg across the seat. The others sit in the two living room chairs and bring chairs in from the dining table. They sit and eat cake and catch him up on school and the bookstore. No one mentions the ‘mugging.’ Much as Jensen appreciates everyone coming to see him, he soon wants them to go. He can’t remember the last time he was so tired.

Megan is the first to say that they should leave and let him get some rest. The others agree, quickly stand, and wish him well.

“You need anything, man, you just let me know,” Chris says.

Jensen nodds. “Take good notes in class for me.”

Chris rolls his eyes. “Dude, you’re already getting an A, you don’t have to take the final.”

“What?”

“Yeah, Dr. Gilbert announced that anyone who already had an A wasn’t required to take the final. Not that you wouldn’t have aced it anyway, but now you can spend more time catching up on your other classes.”

“Yeah, thanks for letting me know,” Jensen says.

“No problem.”

The others file out until only Tina is left. She kneels in front of the sofa.

“Don’t you look pretty,” Jensen said.

“Charmer,” she says and looks aside. He’s surprised by her shyness, and Jensen thinks he sees a little blush under the make-up.

“It’s true,” he insists. She looks so different without her heavy work make-up, brightly colored wig, and flashy clothes.

“Thanks,” she says. She meets his gaze then. “How are you, sweetie?”

“I’m going to be fine. Doctors say I might have a little scar on my cheek when all the swelling and bruising is gone, and I have to go to physical therapy for my knee, but yeah, I’ll be fine.”

She didn’t say a word, just held his gaze.

It was Jensen’s turn to look away. “I’m okay, really.”  He gave her a small smile. “I’m getting better, Tina. Promise. This was just ... a little setback. That’s all.”

Jared comes back from seeing the other guests out. He stands at the end of the sofa with his hands on his hips. “I think I better get him to bed before I have to carry him there.”

“Mm-hmm, get him to bed,” Tina says with a smirk. She kneels up and gives Jensen a kiss on the cheek. “You take care, honey.” She stands and points a finger at Jared. “I’m holding you responsible. Make sure he follows doctor’s orders and don’t let him over do it.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Jared says and crosses his finger over his heart.

Tina chuckles. “Cheeky. I’ll see myself out.”

“Ready for bed?” Jared asks.

“It’s barely dinner time,” Jensen says.

“How about if I bring you dinner in bed?” Jared offers.

“What’s for dinner?”

“Pizza from Micheleo’s?”

“Can I have a beer?”

Jared laughed. “No, you can’t have a beer. You’re on narcotics.” Jared holds out his hand, and Jensen takes it. Instead of pulling him to his feet, Jared sweeps him up in his arms. Jensen makes an undignified squeak, and Jared laughs.

“Put me down.”

“You’re exhausted.” Jared starts off through the living area to the hallway.

“I could make it to the bedroom.”

“Too late,” Jared says as he turns sideways to keep from bumping Jensen’s feet against the wall. “Anyway, you might want to conserve your energy.”

“For what?” Jensen asks with a smile.

“Eating pizza,” Jared deadpans. “What else?”

###

Jensen pushes himself up against the pillows and turns on the light. With a belly full of pizza and cocooned in his own bed, he ought to be able to sleep, but exhausted as he is he can’t seem to stop his brain from running in circles like a hamster on a wheel. He sighs and runs his hands over his face, drops them to his lap.

“I thought you’d be asleep.” Jared is standing in the doorway.

“Yeah, me too,” he admits.

Jared is silent for a moment, and as though making a decision, he comes into the room and sits cross-legged on the bed facing Jensen. “Something on your mind.”

“What did you do?”

Jared looks down at his hands where he’s picking at a hangnail. His hair falls over his eyes. Jensen doesn’t know how to read his expression when he looks up. “The less you know, the better.”

Jensen purses his lips and nods. “I saw a story in the paper about a fire at an old paint factory the day I was ‘mugged.’”

Jared met his eye. “Then you know everything you need to know.”

“The story said they found some shards of bone in the ash. Probably a homeless person who tried to build a fire to stay warm.”

“Yeah, no trace of additional accelerants but the place was soaked with chemicals from the paint processing. It went up like torch. The fire was ruled accidental. The owner will get an insurance pay out. No harm, no foul.”

Jensen’s stomach did a flip-flop. He couldn’t believe this was the straight as an arrow cop he’d met. “I don’t understand. You had him. You could have sent him back to jail.”

“For how long, Jen?”  A muscle twitched in Jared’s jaw. “He would have gotten out and come after you again. You would have had that hanging over you.”

“Maybe not. You could have let him run. He would have left me alone.” Jensen didn’t really believe it, but he still couldn’t believe that Jared had killed Morgan the way he had.

Jared’s eyes narrowed. “You don’t believe that, and even if it were true, he’d have just gone after some other kid because you know he wouldn’t change.” Jared shook his head. “No, what I did was a public service.”

Jensen squeezed his eyes shut and fought the sob that threatened to climb his throat. He dropped his head and inhaled hard through his nose, shoulders shaking. Jared’s hand gripped his arm.

“Jen. Hey, Jen, what is it?”

“I’ve ...” He takes a shaky breath. “I’ve turned you into a murderer.”

“No, darlin’,” Jared murmurs. He moves forward and pulls Jensen against his chest. “No, it wasn’t murder. I was defending you.”

Jensen pulls back and looks Jared in the eye. They both know it isn’t true, but this is the story they can live with. They have to. Jensen nods. Jared wipes the tears from Jensen’s cheeks and kisses him.

“You’re exhausted,” Jared says. “You need some sleep. You’ll feel better after a good night’s rest.”

“Yeah,” Jensen nods again. “Yeah.”

“Okay, here, lie down.”

Jensen scoots down in the bed, and Jared pulls the sheet up over him.

“Jared.”

“Yeah?”

“Would you lie with me till I go to sleep?”

Jared smiles, dimples creasing his cheeks. Yeah, of course. He climbs under the covers and rolls onto his side right up against Jensen with an arm across his middle. “Good?”

“Yeah.” Jensen smiles and stretches to turn off the lamp. Jared presses a kiss to Jensen’s cheek. “I love you, Jen,” he murmurs in Jensen’s ear.

Jensen starts to relax. His limbs feel heavy, and he can already feel himself beginning to drift.

“Love you too,” he mumbles.

-30-


End file.
